When Everything Changed
by TonyDiNozzo42
Summary: When Osama bin Laden is killed, everyone thinks things are gonna get better now. Everyone except Gibbs and Tony. They've got this gut feeling that something's gonna happen that's gonna change everything. When federal agents start to mysteriously wind up dead, can the MCRT figure out what's going on? Or will they lose another of their own? Tony whump and protective Gibbs! Ch. 10 up!
1. The Revelation

**When Everything Changed**

_May 1, 2011_

_2300 hours_

The day had been rather boring. In fact, they had just wrapped up a case, so they had nothing to do except paperwork and write reports.

Tony hated desk duty. In fact he hated it so much, that he tried to do whatever he could to get out of it. Unfortunately, today no cases had come in, and he was stuck with piles and piles of paperwork.

Tony was just about to pack up and leave, in fact, when Abby came barreling out of the elevator, shouting incoherently. Gibbs stood quickly and grabbed Abby's shoulder's, stopping her in her tracks.

"Abbs," Gibbs prodded gently, "What happened?" Abby opened and closed her mouth several times, but couldn't manage words. "Abby, breath," Gibbs said slowly.

She did, and continued, "Gibbs," She gasped out, "He...President….shooting.."

"Abby." Gibbs warned sternly, cutting her off.

Abby nodded, but didn't trust her mouth enough to respond. Instead she grabbed the remote to the big screen, and turned on ZNN.

"…President Obama came on the air recently, requesting to speak to the public as regards to recent news. The September 11th mastermind, Osama bin Laden has been killed, how this took place we still don't….."

A gasp erupted around the room, drowning out the rest of the reporter's sentence. Everyone's eyes had been transfixed on the screen during the incredible news that the reporter had said only moments before. Tony couldn't move, couldn't talk, couldn't even breathe.

A moment passed before the entire bullpen erupted in applause, and shouts of excitement. The excitement that erupted from these agents, still at work at 2300 hours, was tremendous. Tony could feel movement all around him, but he still didn't move, his eyes still glued to the screen, not believing this incredible news.

Tony could feel his body shaking, could feel himself slowly falling apart at the seems. What he didnt realize, was that he wasnt alone standing by his desk staring at the screen. He didnt even notice the other person behind him, until he felt the comforting hand on his shoulder.

He gasped and jumped, but the hand didnt waver, it stayed on his shoulder, grounding him. Tony turned slighlty to see his boss' face, a small reasuring smile playing on his lips.

"Hey Tony, he's gone. Everything's gonna be okay now."

Tony shook his head, the sadness now showing in his eyes. "You dont really believe that, do you." He asked it more as a statement than a question.

Gibbs sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing a hand over his face. He took a deep breath to steady himself before he answered. "I believe that what happens, happpens, and we'll just have to deal with the fallout of that."

Tony nodded. "I dont think this is over yet. I mean, we cant really just think that after everything that happened with 9/11 that Al Queada is just gonna give up. Especially after we just killed their leader." Gibbs could see the fire flash in his eyes, the determination, and he couldn't help the overwhelming sense of pride at that.

"You think they're gonna retaliate." Again, the question was more of a statement, but Tony answered anyway.

"Yeah, I do." The simplicity in that statement was so strong, Gibbs had to swallow the lump that suddenly formed in his throat, and made it difficult to breathe. He knew that no matter what happens he can trust this man, whom he'd come to trust and care for more than anyone in the world, would be there and would always have his six.

Gibbs smiled a small, sad smile at his friend, his partner, his senior field agent. Tony smiled back, the small, soft smile, that was real and ment the world to Gibbs. At that moment, all was right in the world, and Gibbs didnt care about Al Queda and terrorists and Bin Ladin, and the possible retaliation they would get after this. All he cared about was right here, right now, with these people he had come to think of as family.

And hope that no matter what happened, they would still have each other.


	2. The Fallout

**Ch. 2: The Fallout**

**Disclaimer Note: Not my sandbox, just playing in it! **

**AN: Sorry it took so long to update. This summer has been craaazy. I barely had any time to go on the computer. Oh and sorry about all the grammar mistakes in the last chapter. It was my first ever post and I still hadn't figured out how to do everything, but I kinda got it now. Okay, well the story continues, and now we shall see how our heroes handle the fallout. ENJOY!**

_A Month Later:_

NCIS Director Leon Vance was sitting at his desk, looking through reports of cold cases, when his cell phone rang.

Not bothering to look at caller id, he picked up the phone and answered with a gruff, "Vance."

"Director, you're needed in MTAC."

"For what reason, probie?" Vance wasn't trying to be rude, he just didn't trust this kid yet. He had already messed up twice and, in Vance's book, three strikes you're out. The kid didn't need another strike against him.

"You have a call from the director of the FBI and the CIA. They said it was an urgent call, but they wouldn't say anything more than that. Sir." The kid said the 'sir' part almost as an afterthought. 

Man, the probie sounded so nervous and scared. Vance was starting to get a little worried.

"Alright, be right there." Vance hung up abruptly.

_I'm starting to act like Gibbs now. _Vance thought, only slightly annoyed.

Vance hurried down to MTAC, brushing past his secretary (what was her name again?), and walked right in.

"Director, thank God, they were starting to get anxious." There's that kid again. He really should learn his name; it would sound bad calling one of your men 'that kid'.

One of the computer techs turned on the call to the FBI and CIA.

"Ah, Director Vance, how good to see you again." By the tone of his voice, the Director of the FBI didn't sound the least bit pleased to see Vance.

"And it's good to see you too Directors. Now can you please explain to me, what exactly is this about?"

FBI gestured to CIA, who spoke first. "There have been mysterious disappearances within my agency. Agents will get an anonymous call and go investigate. Then they go missing for a few days, normally three to four, then turn up dead in some gutter somewhere. It is very nerve-racking and I talked to the FBI about it, and it seems similar things are happening to his agency as well."

CIA seemed to be done, so Vance turned his attention to the FBI's director.

"Yes Vance, what he says is true. My agents will go out and investigate murders, drug runs, whatever their case is, and will go missing for days, then turn up murdered. We are telling you this because we fear we have a serial killer on our hands. Apparently, whoever is doing this, is trying to take apart the government, piece by piece. We noticed that senators and representatives are being murdered as well. This needs to stop."

"And it will, trust me directors, we will get to the bottom of this. I'll put my best team on the case immediately."

FBI nodded. "And I, mine. But be warned Vance, this guy is dangerous. It happens so fast, you don't know what hits you. Keep your team safe and warn them of the dangers this case involves."

CIA piped up. "Gentlemen, I don't think we are dealing with just one serial killer here. I think it may be more than one, a gang."

"A whole group of people after the United States government? Do we have any such enemy?" It was unnecessary for FBI to ask this question, for every man or woman present would know just who hated them so. Just as it was unnecessary to answer the rhetorical question, but Vance did anyway.

"I can only think of one. Al Queda." Every head in MTAC turned toward Vance and his abrupt response. _Maybe I am turning into Gibbs. _Vance thought.

"But Director," It was that damn probie again. "Isn't Al Queda crushed? I mean, we killed Bin Laden after all."

"You would have to be a fool to expect that the most dangerous terrorist group in the world wouldn't retaliate to us killing the very man that started all of this. We should have seen this coming, and I'm sorry for the men you lost, directors."

Vance ended the conversation abruptly, once again, and strode out of the room. As he left MTAC, he looked over the railing of the second floor to the first floor bullpen, and the agents who were residing in there.

The MCRT or, as most people had come to fondly call them, Gibbs' family, was gathered in their small space consisting of four desks. 

Agents David and McGee were already at their desks, presumably working, but most likely IMing each other.

Agent DiNozzo was sitting in his chair, feet propped up on his desk, and was using a plastic spoon to flick small paper wads at Agent McGee's head.

One bounced of his computer monitor and landed in the trash can beside his desk.

DiNozzo jumped up in the air, suddenly on his feet, and was pumping his fists in the air, like a basketball player just making the winning basket.

He was commentaring the whole thing.

"Five seconds left in the game, the Tigers are two points ahead of the Sharks and DiNozzo goes for the win. He fakes right and goes left, he shoots and…he scores!

SHARKS WIN!"

McGee sighed and slammed his head on his desk. "To-ony, please, just stop. If Gibbs sees you messing around and not writing those reports he told us to write, were dead. He will kill all of us."

"Yes," Ziva piped up, "Do you really want to be on desk duty because Gibbs caught you making a touchdown?"

McGee and Tony sighed simultaneously.

"Uhh, Ziva, it's called making a basket." McGee clarified.

"Yeah Zi, touchdown is football. Football and basketball are totally different. I mean in football you've got big guys in pads and tons of gear, tackling it out on a 100 yd. field. In basketball you've got little guys in jerseys scrapin' it up on a court. TOTALLY different."

"Oh and don't forget the fatheads." McGee added.

"Oh yeah, fatheads. They're the best." Tony grinned brightly.

"Fatheads? What are fatheads?" Ziva looked so confused, and McGee had to refrain from cracking up.

"Do you mean a head that is fat? Because if you do, I think you Tony have a very fat head."

This time, McGee did crack up, and almost fell out of his chair.

"What? Me? You think I have a fat head?" Tony's voice and face showed mock offense, "No, Zi-vaaaaaaaaa. A fathead is….."

"You, DiNozzo." DiNozzo was cut off by Gibbs' sudden entrance and his abrupt statement.

Vance allowed a small chuckle at Agent Gibbs' impeccable timing and conversation ending statement.

"Alright, grab your gear!" Gibbs called to his team, who immediately began scrambling around for their backpacks and gear.

"We got a case, Boss?" McGee's response came out as an odd mixture of a question and statement. But, of course, Gibbs answered it like a question.

"No, McGee, were going golfing. Of course we have a case! Got anymore stupid questions?"

McGee quickly shook his head and moved a little faster, so he was the first one to the elevator and he pressed the button.

Vance heard the quiet 'ding' of the elevator and watched the team enter. As the doors began to close, Vance heard Gibbs say one more thing, and he found himself straining to hear the statement.

"Oh, and DiNozzo, I catch you messin' around again when your supposed to be writing reports, I'm gonna headslap you so hard your grandkids are gonna feel it."

Vance wants to tell them now, wants to get the best team in NCIS on the case as fast as possible. But he lets them finish this case, lets them wrap it up.

It didn't take long anyway, a week maybe.

Turns out the man who killed their Petty Officer, Lawrence Starr, was involved in some pretty nasty things. Including: drug running, illegal shipping industry and….he made bombs.

That was most likely the reasoning behind the fact that the MCRT was now walking into the bullpen, covered in filth and grime, wincing with every step, while 'escorting' their killer to interrogation.

If you could really call half-dragging, half-pushing a noncompliant man 'escorting'.

Vance watched each member of the MCRT enter, and noted how each one differed in their injuries.

Agent McGee entered first, covered in dust and dirt, with only a few scratches to his face and arms. He looked extremely disshelved and his hair was in a frenzy, but otherwise seemed unharmed.

Agent David entered next, pushing their killer behind Agent McGee. Like McGee, she was covered in dust and dirt as well, but she had quite a bit more scratches on her face and arms and her clothes were ripped in a few places.

Then Agent Gibbs entered. He looked far worse then his younger agents, with his clothes ripped in many different places, grime covering his entire body and the slight limp in his step.

Then Agent DiNozzo entered, last.

He looked the worst of all of them combined. His hair was in complete disarray, his clothes were ripped and falling apart, with parts still smoking in places. He walked with an obvious and pained limp, nearly falling twice and not, only because Agent Gibbs caught him just in time and then helped him into his seat.

As the team entered the bullpen, Vance allowed himself a closer examination of Agent DiNozzo. He seemed to have gotten the entire force of the explosion, for whatever reason. He would need some answers later on.

Doctor Mallard came rushing into the room and immediately approached Agent DiNozzo. But DiNozzo waved him off gesturing to Gibbs instead. The ME nodded his understanding and turned to Agent Gibbs, who waved him off as well, gesturing back to Agent DiNozzo.

The two glared at each other, both obviously wanting the other taken care of first. The doctor simply sighed and moved over to Agents David and McGee to take care of them.

Vance was shocked. DiNozzo and Gibbs shared some sort of understanding and care for each other that ran so deep and so true that a few glances and looks could get their points across.

Any onlooker would never be able to understand their friendship. Not even those closest to them realized the depth of their relationship.

Suddenly, Agent Gibbs dragged Agent DiNozzo away from the other three and into his private 'conference room', which was just the elevator with the emergency brake pulled.

Oh, how Vance would love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.

**AN: And we do get to be that 'fly on the wall' so to speak. *EVIL GRIN* But we have to wait till the next chapter to hear their conversation. Quite a cliffy, huh? I promise I'll update soon, even if I didn't do it last time. Oh! And what is it with Vance constantly spying on them while they are in the bullpen? Kinda creepy, huh? **

**Promise I'll update, already writing the next chapter! BYE-BYE!**

**~TonyDiNozzo42~**


	3. The Beginning of the End

**Ch. 3: The Beginning of the End**

**AN: Alright here we are, another chapter. Please tell me how you like it. Hey, by the way, to all of you who subscribe to story alert and author alert and add this to favorite stories, cant you leave a review too. I mean, I love reviews and it makes me happy to read them, but I get all sad when no one reviews. **** (Thank you to those of you who did review.) **_**And**_**, I might update faster if more people review and give me ideas to the story. **

**Anyway, that's my rant for the day. Now, ENJOY!**

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Tony could feel himself being pulled into the elevator by a very angry, very persistent Gibbs. It hurt like hell to walk, to even move, but he couldn't really do anything about it seeing as he was being forced.

So, he just slid his mask onto his face to hide the pain, like he always did.

He had to admit, his rescue strategy wasn't exactly flawless. But it's not his fault, not really. I mean, how would anyone else react if they weren't thinking clearly because three people you care about more than anyone in the world were about to get blown to smithereens.

Not that he would admit that, to anyone. Not even Abby.

Gibbs pushed the button for the elevator with a little more force than he had intended, and as soon as the doors opened he pushed DiNozzo in.

Tony stumbled a little and hissed in obvious pain from the sudden and unwarned shove. Gibbs felt a little bad about that, but that feeling soon faded as the impending anger took hold when he remembered why he wanted to talk to his agent.

Tony was one of the best damn agents he had ever worked with, and _the_ best young agent. He was smart, witty, funny, and he had a talent for thinking outside of the box, which had helped them solve many cases.

He was also amazingly good at undercover work and extremely brave and loyal as a damn golden retriever. He would do anything for those he cared about; he would even take a bullet for them.

He was also extremely reckless and was constantly getting into trouble. And he had no regard for his health.

These qualities gave Gibbs an overwhelming sense of pride, and annoyed the hell out of him at the same time. One day, Tony was gonna get himself killed.

Gibbs smacked the emergency stop button, immediately ceasing the elevator's motion and bathing the small space into darkness, only illuminated by the back-up lights coming on.

"Tony, what the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" Gibbs was vibrating with anger, and nearly spat the words at Tony.

Tony straightened his back, as much as he could with the muscles bunched up in pain and exhaustion and looked Gibbs straight in the eye, something most people shrank away from doing. Not Tony.

"I _think_," he emphasized the word 'think', but otherwise his voice remained completely calm and collected, not betraying his emotions, "that I was doing my job, Gibbs."

Gibbs shook his head violently. "No, not back at the warehouse, though we are going to talk about that." His words held an intense note in them, not a threat, but a promise, and it was scary as hell. "I mean back there, in the bullpen. Why wouldn't you let Ducky check you out? You got the worst of the explosion."

Tony was now starting to let his anger slip through a little as he grinned at Gibbs. It was frightening seeing that look on his face. The anger mottled and twisted the grin into a sort of sneer that looked almost maniacal.

"Because I'm fine, Gibbs." Tony's voice held absolutely no emotion as he said this, and it truly scared Gibbs. He stared into those familiar green eyes that were normally so friendly, but now held no sign of that normally happy-go-lucky agent. He scrutinized everything in his eyes he could, trying to understand what was going on behind those eyes of his into that mind that went zero to sixty in two seconds flat.

"You telling me that wincing with every step, barely being able to walk, and nearly falling twice, is fine?" He sneered the last word, almost matching the look Tony had given him earlier. Tony faltered slightly, shocked by the creepy smile playing on Gibbs' lips that he knew he had used earlier.

Gibbs felt some satisfaction in the sense that he had stumped DiNozzo, but Tony quickly recovered.

"Yeah, I am." Tony said it so simply, so obviously, that Gibbs found himself gazing into his eyes with even more intensity. Tony leaned in a little closer to him, so he was looking straight into his boss' own eyes. Green to blue. Their noses were nearly touching at this point.

And in that moment, something completely unknown passed between the two of them. Something that not even the two men completely understood. But it was there.

The understanding they reached was completely different and had absolutely nothing to do with the conversation they had just had. It ran much deeper than that.

And, slowly, the two men began to feel the tension leaving their bodies, could feel the anger ebbing away. As quickly as it came, it went, leaving no trace of an argument.

Gibbs nodded, slowly, and moved away from Tony then pushed the emergency stop button, allowing the elevator back into motion.

When the elevator arrived at the bullpen, Tony stepped out first and moved over to his desk, sitting down immediately.

Gibbs followed close behind and pulled McGee's empty seat closer to his senior field agent's desk, occupying the space directly to Tony's right.

Ducky stood right in front of Tony to get a closer inspection of him and his injuries. When Ducky moved to touch Tony's arm to view the burns there, he looked inquiringly into the man's eyes, seeking approval for this action.

When Tony didn't flinch away, simply nodded and looked away, Ducky took that as his okay to go on.

Tony didn't say a word, didn't move away, didn't make a sound besides the occasional hiss when Ducky touched a particularly tender area.

Gibbs sat beside him, keeping a quiet vigil through the doctor's examination, only moving when he squeezed Tony's shoulder a few times to reassure him when he hissed a little bit louder than last time.

Then he sat still as Ducky continued his ministrations on Gibbs himself. After the team was all patched up, Ducky said his goodbyes and went back down to autopsy.

Vance, once again, was shell-shocked. He couldn't believe that Tony had given in so easily and even more so that he had barely made a sound or objection the entire time.

Gibbs stood up after a few minutes and moved to the elevator, probably to go talk to Ducky or Abby. Vance made his move then. He trotted down the steps and stepped in front of the smaller elevator in the back of room, just as Gibbs turned the corner.

"Well hello Director, how nice to see you." His words held a strong note of sarcasm, and Vance knew that this encounter was anything but.

"Agent Gibbs, a word please?" Gibbs nodded and made to move into the elevator, when Vance sidestepped, blocking it from view.

"In _my_ office, please."

Gibbs smiled in that famous half-smirk of his, and followed behind as he led him up to his office.

As soon as they got there, Vance gestured for Gibbs to enter first, and then he turned around and locked the door as he stepped in. He didn't need anyone walking in on them now.

Vance moved to stand behind his desk, and gestured for Gibbs to sit. When he didn't, Vance shook his head and mentally prepared himself for the bomb he was about to drop, no pun intended.

"The FBI and CIA have informed me of mysterious disappearances within their agencies. Apparently, there is a gang of some sort aiming to kill off members of elite organizations linked to the government. More importantly, anyone linked to the Army, Air Force, Marine Corps., SWAT, and Navy. Including, so it seems, government agents. Even senators and representatives have been disappearing. And no one is missing long before they turn up dead."

Gibbs nodded as he took in this new information. They had just caught a dangerous serial killer not too long ago. They didn't need another one. The port to port killer had been enough, and it had left everyone stressed and worn out.

Gibbs decided to voice his worries aloud, "Director, another serial killer?"

Vance shook his head quickly, trying to alleviate at least that worry from his shoulders.

"No no, I don't think so Gibbs. I think this is something different."

"Well, then what, Leon?" Gibbs questioned, obviously annoyed now, which showed as he used Vance's first name, "What is it that you want me to know?"

"We….well actually, I, believe this had something to do with Al Queda. Well more like everything to do with Al Queda."

Gibbs looked shocked. Well, damn. He hadn't seen that one coming.

"Umm, Director? Something to do with Al Queda, or everything to do with Al Queda. There's a big difference there." Gibbs let his dry sense of humor leak into his words, as they practically dripped with sarcasm.

"Jethro," Vance sighed and rubbed a hand across his face as he dropped into his chair but didn't finish what he was going to say.

That was enough though. It shocked Gibbs to hear the man use his first name, and to sound so…..._defeated_. His voice lacked its usual demanding and bossy tone that annoyed the hell out of Gibbs.

Gibbs waited for Vance to continue, and when he didn't Gibbs simply nodded and turned on his heel and left.

But before he let the door close, he turned back around and spoke one last thing, in an attempt to reassure the director.

"I promise, my team and I will get right on the case, and we will figure out who's behind all this. Before this gets too far out of hand."

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Gibbs entered the bullpen where his agents were working tirelessly at their jobs, and threw the case files down onto his desk that he had been looking at in the break room for the last hour.

"Boss?" McGee questioned, looking curiously up at him. He wasn't the only one; he could practically feel the eyes of his other two agents boring into him.

"Uh, yeah McGee?"

"Umm, I mean, just," He stuttered and looked very uncomfortable. Gibbs sighed and rubbed a hand across his face, very much like Vance had done earlier.

"Spit it out, McGee." Gibbs ordered.

"It's just, I'm kinda wondering, well we were all wondering, what did the director want?"

Gibbs just looked at him for a second, but then he mentally shook himself.

"Well, that's what I was comin' in here to tell ya', if you would let me."

He watched as McGee, DiNozzo and Ziva all snapped to attention at his words, already eager for a new case. Well, let's just hope this one didn't kill them first.

"Director Vance has informed me that we have some mysterious disappearances happening all over the country, but they all seemed to be linked to the government in some way. I want to find out why this is happening and how any of these cases," he indicated the files by lifting them and waving them around a little, "are connected."

All three nodded, like eager puppies getting a new treat. If only they knew. Gibbs internally sighed.

"DiNozzo, go through the files and their reports. If you find anything, and I do mean _anything_ linking their murders, I want you to make sure you write it down. Then tell me when you brief me later."

"On it, Boss!" DiNozzo practically jumped out of his seat and grabbed the files from Gibbs' hand.

"McGee!" McGee jumped to attention, looking at Gibbs expectantly, "Background checks on all the victims."

"Got it, Boss!" McGee answered, not as enthusiastic as Tony was, but compliant nonetheless. Then he immediately walked over to Tony's desk, pulling his chair along, and sat down, flipping through the files with him.

"And Ziver?"

Ziva looked up at Gibbs, smiling shyly.

"Yes, Gibbs?"

"You're with me." Gibbs announced, jabbing a thumb to his chest to help indicate what he meant.

Ziva only nodded and followed him to the elevator. She didn't know what this was about, but she knew she would find out soon enough.

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She was completely surprised to realize that they were going to the FBI. After all, no one in NCIS liked the FBI, except Gibbs.

One of his best friends, Agent Fornell, was in the FBI. Gibbs and Fornell got along, although everyone else on both sides hated them.

As they entered the FBI headquarters in the Hoover Building, Agent Carlson walked up to them. He worked on Agent Fornell's team.

"Hey Gibbs, what's up with all you feds over at the Navy Yard?" He grinned at them much the way Tony did and Ziva suddenly felt like she was looking at an FBI version of Tony.

"Hey Carlson, we need to talk to Fornell. Ya' know where he is?"

"Yeah, he's up in the office. I could escort you if you like." His grin only grew wider at that, and Ziva had the feeling that his intentions may not be completely true. Definitely Tony.

Gibbs nodded and then they were moving. Then they were dodging agents and mail carriers as they got wrapped up in Monday morning, start of the week, craziness. They walked through the break room, which was packed full with agents chatting about their weekends and what they did.

Finally, they made it to Fornell's bullpen, and they could see him talking to another agent in the back of the room.

"Hey, Fornell got some visitors for you." Carlson called over to him.

Fornell turned around and his face broke out into a grin as he caught sight of his unexpected guests.

"I'll talk to ya' later, Susie." Fornell said to the pretty redheaded agent he had been talking to. She grinned and nodded before walking away.

"Well hello, Jethro. What a pleasant surprise." He greeted as he walked over to the two.

"Good to see you too, Tobias." Gibbs nodded along with his words, but his expression showed his displeasure with the conversation ahead.

Fornell chuckled a little, and rubbed a hand over his face.

"Why do I get the feeling this isn't going to be a particularly friendly conversation, Jethro?"

Gibbs chuckled, but the smile on his face soon faded into a grim line.

"Because this _isn't_ going to be a particularly friendly conversation, Tobias."

Tobias sighed grimly, realizing this wasn't a friendly visit, and gestured for them to follow him. As they entered the conference room, all the joy he had felt as he'd first caught sight of Gibbs, had faded completely.

"Now, Gibbs, what can I do for NCIS today?"

"Fornell, this is about that case that NCIS now has primary custody over. The CIA had it first, then the FBI. It started about a month ago. I know you know which case I'm talking about, Tobias."

Fornell nodded and sighed again.

"Yes, Jethro, I know which case. In fact, I had that case not too long ago."

"What changed?" Gibbs asked this very calmly, but he could tell that he was treading on thin ice.

"Well, Jethro, the same thing happened to us that happened to the CIA."

Gibbs looked at him pointedly, waiting for him to elaborate.

Fornell sighed, but finally gave in.

"We lost an agent, Jethro. A damn good one too."

Gibbs nodded. Just then, he and Fornell locked eyes. Gibbs understood what Fornell's intense look meant.

"Jethro, keep your people safe. You never know what's gonna happen." Fornell whispered these words, so that Ziva on the other side of the room couldn't hear them.

"I will, Tobias."

Fornell nodded, and then straightened, suddenly at complete attention.

"Alright, what can I do for you Gibbs?"

"I want a joint investigation with the FBI."

Fornell nodded. "Of course, Jethro. We'll do anything to catch these bastards."

"One condition though."

Fornell chuckled, as though he had been expecting that. "Isn't there always, Jethro."

Gibbs smirked, but continued. "I'm the lead investigator. You answer to me. Deal?"

Fornell nodded. "Deal."

Gibbs nodded and turned on his heel to leave, Ziva following behind. 

Now that they were working with the FBI, they were sure to catch them sooner rather than later. He hoped that they wouldn't lose another agent before they found their killers. They didn't need another good agent gone. They really didn't.

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**AN: Alright, another chapter down. Hope y'all liked it! I worked hard on it. I'll try updating soon. Please, review. I wanna know how you liked it. **

**~TonyDiNozzo42~**


	4. The Second DiNozzo

**Ch. 4: The Second DiNozzo**

**AN: HEYYYYYYYY FOLKS! First off I am SOOOOOO sorry to all of you who have reviewed, rated, watched and/or been waiting in anticipation for the next chapter of this incredible story (I know I'm being self-sufficient, but just roll with it). My summer has been intensely crazy what with starting school at a completely different school and needing to prep and get ready, between all the excessive reading of summer reading (of course, I waited until the last minute, **_**again**_**) and the shopping for school supplies and clothes and end-of-the-summer parties and vacations, I have had literally no time for myself or my writing. So, I'm sorry. But I've made it up in this new chapter and I am already writing the next chapters. I kinda already have an idea as to where this is gonna go, but I need it all down before I even think of posting anything. So that's about it. Thanks for your patience those of you who are still hangin' on to this story, and for those of you who quit on me, I'm sorry it took so long. Hopefully you added me to story alert and you will see when this chapter comes up on fanfiction. Alright, BYE! And enjoy!**

**Disclaimer Note**_**:**_** If I owned this fantabulous television series do you really think I would be on fanfiction writing about what I wanted to do, or do you think I would be out there making my dreams come true on screen for us all to enjoy. If I owned this, slash would be normal, and Gibbs/Tony wouldn't be a foreign concept or pairing. (Not that I don't go for Tiva, I LOVEEEE Tiva, onscreen anyway. But there's something about Tibbs that just gets me *Sigh*) Anyway, enough with my ranting. **

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As Gibbs and Ziva walked back into the bullpen, Tony and Tim, who had been working diligently, stood.

"Boss, Gibbs, we found some matches in the cases." Tony said, turning on the big screen.

Tim took off. "Every single victim is somehow connected to the government. Whether they are politicians, cops, or veterans, it doesn't matter." 

"Mainly, however, it seems our guy is targeting government agents the most, both federal and local." Tony joined in. "Local Leo's have been reported missing and dead all over the Washington and Maryland area. But there have also been agents under the FBI, CIA, and the secret service who have gone missing as well."

"And, just last week, one of our own was killed two weeks after she was reported missing." Tim said pointedly. "Not here at the Navy base, but in the NCIS agency up in New York. Her name was-."

"Lisa Edwards." Gibbs stated as the image of her license and badge showed on the screen, loudly enough that he could cut off McGee.

Tony turned to stare at Gibbs. "Know her, Boss?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Nope."

Tony narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side, knowing Gibbs would understand what he was trying to convey without actually saying it.

Gibbs sighed. "News gets around, DiNozzo. Especially when it's about one of your own."

Tony nodded, excepting that answer.

Just then, Gibbs cell rang.

"Gibbs." He growled into the device. He listened to the other person for a few minutes, then closed the phone without warning.

"Got a dead body. Local Leo's said badge is FBI. FBI called us to go investigate. Grab your gear." They were already getting their things before the sentence was even out of his mouth.

"DiNozzo." Tony looked up at him.

Gibbs tossed him the keys, and he caught them reflexively. "Gas the truck, then you drive."

Tony looked down at the keys in shock. "Really, Boss? I mean, you _don't_ wanna drive ?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Nope, but you better move soon before I change my mind."

Tony nodded eagerly, and then took off, McGee and Ziva close on his heels.

Just as the elevator doors closed behind his team, Gibbs heard one last thing.

"SHOTGUN." McGee yelled.

Then there was loud cursing in Hebrew that, for once, they were all glad they didn't understand.

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They heard them coming before they saw them, and they shared a small smile between each other as they caught onto the conversation taking place.

"I mean come on, I'm telling you, he's like a super hero. He gets all these super secret phone calls on his cell from the 'President', who's really Vance that," Tony lowered his voice a few octaves, "he's requested immediately."

McGee sighed. "Tony, just stop."

But Tony had no intention of stopping just yet. "And then he's all like, get in the car and he drives faster then the speed of light. I'm telling you, he's a super hero." Tony grinned.

"Well, if he's a super hero, then what are we, Toooonyyy? Are we chopped stomach, yes?"

"Ew, no Ziiiiivvvvaaa. It's chopped liver, not stomach, and we are his _sidekicks_. Duh!"

McGee and Ziva sighed simultaneously, but Tony finally was done with his ranting for now.

"Well, well, well, lookie what we've got here." The three agents immediately turned towards the source of the voice. "Hello Agent DiNutzo."

Tony's mouth dropped open, nearly hitting his chest, and the expression was almost comical. The shock was quickly changed to anger, however, and nobody questioned the reasoning for that.

He turned on Gibbs first. "What the _hell_ is _he_ doing here?" Tony hissed, trying to hold back his tightly reined in anger, as he pointed a finger at Fornell.

Gibbs shrugged. "Were working with him, and it's an FBI body."

Tony was practically vibrating with anger. Gibbs pretended not to notice as he turned and walked off to question a witness. Ziva followed and McGee wasn't far behind, neither of them wanting to be nearby when Tony confronted Fornell.

Tony swiped a slightly shaking hand through his hair, and took calming deep breathes.

Fornell chuckled. He loved getting on the younger man's nerves.

"You don't seem too happy to see me, DiNutzo." Fornell observed.

Tony let out a forced, strangled laugh. "Ha! Yah, I'm sorry, Fornell, if I'm not a little more ecstatic to see the man who framed me for murder. Next time I'll be sure to give you a great big hug!" Tony's words were laced with sarcasm and held a threatening malice to them.

Fornell merely grinned and walked off to talk to Jethro, who was leaning against a tree not too far from where they were now.

Fornell shook his head. "He doesn't like me very much, Jethro."

Gibbs chuckled. "No, he doesn't. But can you really blame him, Tobias? Besides, he hates everyone in the FBI, its not just you." Gibbs grinned after that statement.

Fornell couldn't help but grin back. "You think maybe him and Carlson will get along?"

"They better." Gibbs sighed. "They are gonna be working together."

Fornell grinned. "We can introduce them now, see how they react."

Gibbs nodded. "DINOZZO!"

Tony looked up from where he was currently taking pictures of the crime scene. Gibbs gestured for him to come over to where he and Tobias were standing. He immediately started walking over to them.

Tobias laughed. "Wow. That's amazing. I wish my team did that."

Gibbs smirked that little half smirk.

Tony stopped in front of Gibbs. "Yeah, Boss?"

He pointed to Agent James Carlson standing by Ducky. "You're workin' with him. I want you on each other's six every minute of every day. Get to know him." When Tony just stood there, he said a little more forcefully, "Now!"

Tony nodded and immediately took off in the direction Gibbs had pointed him to.

The two men watched in silence as DiNozzo offered Carlson his hand and they shook, introducing themselves.

Fornell sighed. "I hope they get along. We don't want another interagency fight breaking out. Remember last time, Jethro?" He asked, turning to look at Gibbs.

Gibbs chuckled. "Oh yeah, Tobias, I remember."

Fornell rubbed a hand over his face. "With all the yelling and the fists flying we were so worried it would get out. It was bad. We had to keep it quiet for nearly a month." Fornell grimaced.

Gibbs sighed. "Yup."

"Well it was good seeing you again, Jethro." Fornell thrust out his hand.

Gibbs nodded, placing his hand in Fornell's own as they shook once.

"Always a pleasure, Tobias."

Fornell nodded back, the grimace still plastered on his face. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, he grinned.

Gibbs felt slightly uneasy at that grin, knowing all too well what that could mean.

"What?" he asked suspiciously.

"You get the boys, I get David and McGee." He stated just as he sauntered off, yelling for McGee and Ziva before Gibbs could comment.

Gibbs just laughed and gestured for DiNozzo and Carlson to follow. They were rambling on and on about some new movie in theaters that Gibbs _hadn't_ seen and probably would _never_ see.

Oh yeah, they would get along just fine. Gibbs was just worried about the major headache he would have after the hour long drive back to NCIS with DiNozzo and a clone-like DiNozzo rambling in the backseat.

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After their little argument about who would get the front seat, Gibbs had finally intervened and just said for them both to get in the back. This had ended up being disastrous for Gibbs because now he had _two_ DiNozzo's rambling in the backseat rather that just _one_ DiNozzo, and without the real DiNozzo in the front seat in perfect head slapping/shutting up range, it was turning into a _very_ long drive.

After yet another long, drawn out, very Ducky-ish lecture on the difference between Sean Connery's James Bond and Daniel Craig's James Bond, explaining the good and the bad about each actor and how they portrayed the role. Tony went for Connery all the way, and Carlson went for Craig, saying he was a great addition to the series.

"No, no, no. You can't _really_ think that _Daniel_ _Craig_ is better than _Connery_. _Can_ you?" Tony looked absolutely floored.

Carlson just grinned, thought his tone held no mirth. "DiNozzo, Daniel Craig added his own pizzazz to the character of James Bond. Therefore I respect him for it and think him an excellent actor for not being intimidated by Sean Connery, Timothy Dalton, and Roger Moore's previous endeavors."

Gibbs chuckled at the open-mouthed horrific look on DiNozzo's face.

"What? You seriously telling me that Daniel Craig is better that Sean freakin' Connery! I mean seriously! This man was a genius! God, kids these day, they have no idea what real culture is!" Tony sighed dramatically and sunk back into the leather upholstery.

"Kids? Kids? You think I'm a kid?" Carlson asked, completely appalled.

"Oh Jimmy," Tony sighed, shaking his head, "only a kid would believe that Daniel Craig _really_ outdid Sean Connery in the James Bond department."

Gibbs couldn't resist, he had to say it, and he had the perfect moment.

"What about Pierce Brosnan?"

Gibbs watched in the rearview mirror as slowly both Tony and Carlson's faces turned towards him, both wearing an equally appalled look on their face at the absurd suggestion.

"What?" Gibbs shrugged innocently, trying not to laugh at their identical looks of disgust. "It's a simple question. Neither of you mentioned Pierce and I knew that he was in a couple of 'em."

After Gibbs finished they drifted off into tense silence, until all of a sudden the thick silence was broken by an outburst of rapturous laughter filling the car.

Tony was doubled over in his seat, clutching at Carlson's thigh as he tried to catch his breath, a few tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes.

Carlson wasn't much better. He was doubled over as well and was practically laying on Tony's back, the insane giggles pouring from his lips.

Gibbs allowed a small smile at the laughter, glad he had dissipated the tension, if only for a while.

"Alright, alright, we can all stop making fun of me now." Gibbs yelled gruffly over their loud laughs.

Tony took a few calming breaths and finally sat up, red in the face from the exertion. Carlson calmed as well and rubbed a hand across his face, trying to silence a few giggles that slipped through.

"Sor-ry Boss," Tony gasped, still laughing slightly, "Its just, Pierce Brosnan? I mean, he's like-the laughing stock of James Bond."

"Okay, okay fine. Now conversation over, we're back at NCIS."

Tony immediately silenced and jumped out of the charger, heading straight for the elevator.

The ride up to the bullpen was passed in silence, but the moment they exited, they were bombarded by a flurry of sounds and mad chaos. Tony and James rushed to the MCRT bullpen to catch up on the mountains of paperwork that were coating Tony's desk.

Carlson pulled an extra chair up to Tony's desk and sat on his left side to help him with all the extra paperwork that came with being the senior field agent of the major crime response team.

By the time they had finished nearly half, McGee and Ziva entered the bullpen tailed by FBI special agents Fornell, Roberts, and Bennett.

McGee made his way over to his desk and was followed by Special Agent Susanne Roberts. Ziva sat at her own desk with Special Agent Michael Bennett following her.

Gibbs sighed as Fornell made his way over to him, a small smile creeping at the corners of his lips at the look on Gibbs' face.

Before Fornell could comment, Gibbs stood abruptly.

"Conference room." He stated, giving Fornell a pointed look as he walked in the direction of the main elevator.

Once Fornell had slipped inside and the doors had closed, Gibbs had hit the emergency stop button, momentarily freezing the elevator's movement as the back-up lights kicked in.

Gibbs sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

Fornell grinned. "The case getting' to ya', Jethro?"

Gibbs sighed. "You know exactly what's getting' to me, Tobias."

Fornell nodded. "Yeah. I do."

Gibbs chuckled at Fornell's abrupt answer. "Just wanna hear me admit it?"

"Yeah. I do."

"Okay, fine! It's the whole buddy thing, Fornell. It's this damn buddy system that's getting' to me, okay. Happy now?" Gibbs sighed and leaned back heavily against the side of the elevator. "I hate it. I hate how damn useless I feel. I hate how we need to be buddied up with the FBI for us to be safe. I guess it just sunk in how dangerous this case is."

Fornell nodded understandingly. "And how useless we are if something happens."

Gibbs nodded, swallowing back the quickly rising emotion.

"Hey." Fornell touched Gibbs' shoulder gently. "It's gonna be okay Jethro. We're gonna figure this out. You just gotta have a little faith."

Gibbs chuckled. "Yup, a little faith and you'll be just fine, right?"

Fornell nodded. "Jethro, I know you don't go to church much anymore, not since your girls, but you should. You'd be surprised what you pick up. Faith can take you far."

Gibbs winced at the mention of his family, but he grinned despite himself.

"Didn't know you were so religious, Tobias."

Fornell chuckled. "Wasn't always, Jethro. I used to be just like you."

Gibbs actually looked at him at that. "What changed?" he asked softly.

"I did. I got married and had a little girl, then I realized that I didn't want to always be so scared in life. Religion helped." Fornell grinned. "Not to mention, Diane taking a lamp to my head made me want to believe in something greater. Ya' know, in case it all ended."

Gibbs laughed at that. "Yeah, I know the feeling. That golf club didn't feel too good either."

Fornell chuckled and the two men lapsed into silence. Then Gibbs sighed.

"We better go before my team starts to worry about me."

Fornell grinned. "What do ya' think they think we're doing right now?"

Gibbs caught on and grinned too. "Not talkin', I can tell you that."

Fornell shook his head. "I don't know who to be less appalled with: your team, for making you think they would automatically think of that, or you, for saying that you _know_ they would be thinking of that."

Gibbs chuckled and turned the emergency switch off, starting the elevator back into motion as they headed back to the bullpen.

Fornell was right. They would figure this case out. They had to. And they had to do it before another innocent man _or_ woman lost their life to these bastards. They had to solve this soon.

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**AN: Heyyyyyy ya'll! So, it was kinda a filler chapter. Sorry about that, but I promise I've got bigger things planned, so don't worry! The plot will soon be changing and thickening, I just needed to introduce the FBI folks who will be playing a big role in this fic. I simply LOVE Fornell and all his little goons, so I decided to make up a few of my own! Hope you liked this next edition to "When Everything Changed"! Will be updating soon. SOOOOOOO read, rate, review! LOVE AND KISSES ALL AROUND!**

**~TonyDiNozzo42~**


	5. The Men in Black Attack

**Chapter 5: The Men in Black Attack**

**Author's Note: Hey yall! Chapter 6 finally up! I'm excited for this chapter! This is the one where I finally get the plot moving again into the direction Ive wanted to go this entire time! I hope yall like it and remember, READ, REVIEW, ENJOY!**

**Disclaimer Note: ****I do not own NCIS or any of the characters. I only own the ones you've never seen before, those are all my own devious creation. **

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"Okay, so all you gotta do is twist this, and then push this in and voila! You got it!" Gibbs heard Tony's voice say as he rounded the corner into the bullpen.

"Do I want to know, DiNozzo?" Gibbs stopped in front of Tony's desk, staring at the younger man who had previously been talking to "mini DiNozzo" as Gibbs and pretty much the rest of the Navy Yard had begun to think of him as.

"Oh, hey Boss, didn't see you there!" Tony said, immediately standing up.

Gibbs eyebrow went up.

"I mean, all I was telling Jimmy here was how to open a-"

"Stop." Gibbs cut Tony off, putting up a hand. "I don't wanna know, DiNozzo."

And with that, Gibbs walked off, rounding his desk in one swift movement.

"Team! Report!" Gibbs barked to the bullpen as a whole now.

Tony jumped up, picking up the clicker and turning on a slideshow on the screen. "The body has been identified as that of FBI agent Simon Pocola, 23 years old." Tony stated, a picture of Agent Pocola coming up on the screen.

"Been in FBI for 5 years, one of the best probies they got, in fact. His job was analytical computer science-y stuff." Gibbs shot Tony an annoyed glare, and Tony hurried to clarify. "He worked with computers, Boss."

Gibbs nodded and Tony continued, clicking on a picture of the agent in his home. "Like I said, 23 years old, married, no kids. He lived in a small one-story home about 10 miles from here. Wife still lives there." Tony said, wrapping up his presentation.

"Does she know yet?" Gibbs questioned Tony with a raised eyebrow.

"No, not yet." Tony stated matter-of-factly.

Gibbs simply stared at him.

Tony jumped into action. "Go interview the wife, bring Ziva. Gotcha, Boss." Tony said, immediately moving and grabbing his gear.

"Bring Carlson, not Ziva. Need Ziva here with me." Gibbs called after Tony's retreating back.

"Okay, Boss." Tony said, Ziva and Carlson switching places.

"So Carlson, you ever hear about this website where you can actually talk to girls online without having to leave your room? Like a live feed and every-"Gibbs heard Tony say as the elevator doors shut.

Gibbs shook his head and chuckled softly.

Ziva looked at Gibbs questioningly.

Gibbs jerked his head back, signaling her to follow him.

"Come on, Ziver, we got some evidence to look at."

Ziva groaned. Although she truly hated informing and interviewing the family of victims, she hated looking through evidence even more. It took forever and you had to catalog everything, and with all these extra bodies turning up, Abby needed all the help she could get.

Ziva couldn't help but envy Tony as she reluctantly followed Gibbs into the elevator and down to Abby's lab, where she would be spending a large portion of her day sifting through piles of evidence.

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Tony slammed the car door shut and walked around to the passenger side where Carlson was just getting out.

"Alright Carlson, now listen, we gotta take this nice and slow. You know, break it to them easy, you got me?" Tony sounded informative and direct, like he was speaking to a toddler.

"I know, DiNozzo, I've had my fair share of "informing the family" stuff too, you know."

Tony just clapped him on the shoulder and made his way over to the porch of the house. He stepped up onto the porch and knocked sharply on the door. No answer.

He tried again, precautionary. Still, nothing.

That's when Tony tried the door knob. It was locked.

Tony was about to kick the door in when he heard it. The soft tick-tick-tick coming just inside the door was barely noticeable to Tony.

He managed to scream at Carlson to get down, under cover, behind the car, _anything_, before the entire house exploded and was torn apart by the ferocity of the bomb.

Tony was catapulted backwards off the porch several feet from the force of the explosion, and he landed on his back, hard.

The second he hit the ground he blacked out, hitting his head hard on the concrete walkway. He woke up a few minutes later, vision blurry and swimming, and managed to make out the house he had, until moments ago been completely prepared to enter, engulfed entirely in what must have been fifteen foot flames.

Tony blinked a couple times, trying to see, before he suddenly remembered about his partner, and how he had no _idea_ where he was, if he was still alive.

"Carlson!" Tony called out, coughing a little at the smoke that had now shifted and was heading towards him. "Carlson, where are you!"

He heard a muffled reply of "Right here!" and "I'm fine Tony, you okay?" coming from behind the NCIS issued car.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Tony lied.

Well, it wasn't a complete lie. He was okay, I mean, he wasn't _dying_ or anything. But he was hurt. Bad. Like really bad. Like excruciatingly hot, worst-pain-you've-ever-felt bad. And everything hurt. From his supposedly broken and most-definitely burned legs to his throbbing and concussed head. Even his eyes stung from the smoke emanating from the fire.

Tony tried rolling over onto his side to see where Carlson was better and moaned in pain. No, it hurt too much to even _move. _So that meant getting up was out of the question. He'd have to figure out another way to get them out of here.

But Tony was losing steam, and he knew it. Before long, he'd be out cold, but he couldn't allow that. Not when he needed to get out of here and see if Carlson was okay. And what about the team? But Tony couldn't do it; he wanted to give up so bad. He wanted to just go to sleep and make all the pain go away.

The last thing Tony saw before he gave up and fell into the murky darkness below, was two figures, dressed completely in black, arms outstretched before him, grabbing for him. And the last thing he thought, quite absurdly was '_Why are the Men in Black here? Are there aliens nearby?'_

Then, there was nothing.

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"NO!" The man charged into the room, stabbing a finger accusingly into his chest. "You promised NO ONE would get hurt! Do you remember that?"

"Yes. I do." The other, older, man stated coolly, calmly.

"YOU promised that none of the NCIS agents would get hurt yet! YOU promised they'd come here safe, and unharmed! YOU promised-"

"Yes, yes, I promised a lot of things." He cut off the tall, lean man quickly, tired of his ranting. "That doesn't mean I will follow through with any of them." He grinned wickedly, winding up the smaller man.

"UGGGHH! How could you _do_ this! You promised me a week. A week! A week to see if the agents could figure it out." The younger man insisted again, growing desperate now.

"Please! You can't do this! He must be safe for our plan to work!" He was nearly in tears now, shaking with uncontrollable tremors.

"Hey!" the older man cautioned. "Calm down! I always keep my word, do I not?" It was a rhetorical question, but he waited for the younger man to nod slightly anyway. "The plan will still work out with him harmed; in fact it may work even _better_ with him harmed. Now they will be desperate to find him, knowing he has even less time than the others with his previously inflicted wounds."

The younger man nodded, begrudgingly. "Alright, we'll see."

"Good," The older man nodded, "Now go! Finish the next part of our brilliantly schemed plan."

The younger man nodded once more, turned on his heel and left.

The older man laughed evilly as his partner-in-crime left, thinking how lucky he was to have the chance to tear apart this little band of people, this _family_. It would certainly be entertaining.

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**Author's Note: Sooooo what did yall think? Pretty cliffy huh? I thought it was fabulous! Alright, next chapter we figure out where Tony is and what happened to Carlson. Duh, duh, duh! Anyone have any guesses as to what may have happened to the mini DiNozzo? If you do, just send me a message, private or review-type and I'll message you back to tell you if you're right or not! Alright! Thanks for reading and tune in next time for…..Chapter 6! **

**~TonyDiNozzo42~**


	6. The Team Finds Out

**Chapter 6: The Team Finds Out**

**Author's Note: YAY! Another chapter! Alright guys I hope you like this! It's gonna be more of a teaser chapter, so be warned! I apologize in advance for how short it is. But ill make up for it next time! Enjoy! **_**P.S. you have been warned!**_

**Disclaimer Note: Is it my name on the ancient plaque with the desert sand blowing off of it? No? Okay there you go, I don't own NCIS. Only Donald P. Belisario does. **

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Gibbs looked up as the elevator doors dinged open, hoping to see the bright, smiling face of his senior field agent. But no, it was just another agent from another team.

Gibbs sighed. It had been too long. They should be back by now, and DiNozzo hadn't called him. In fact, he hadn't answered any of the calls Gibbs had sent him.

Abby had become frantic when she realized that Tony was missing and wasn't answering any of Gibbs', McGee's or Ziva's calls. So, of course, she had called him 10 times in the next five minutes and had texted him at least 20. Gibbs had stopped her after her tenth attempt at calling him still went to voicemail and long after he had lost track of the texts she was madly, yet skillfully, sending out.

Between the three of them (not including Abby) they had called Tony a total of 13 times and had sent out about five or six texts each.

Still, no answer.

Gibbs glanced over at the phone he had lay untouched on his desk about ten minutes ago. He pushed back the urge to pick up the phone and call Tony again, making the fourteenth time.

Gibbs leaned back in his chair and sighed, rubbing a hand across his face.

Just then, the elevators dinged open, signaling the new arrival. And out came Agent Carlson, covered in smoke and dust, his clothes singed and covered with charred holes. He was shaking and covered in grime from God knows what.

"Gibbs!" Carlson ran over to the bullpen the MCRT was currently occupying.

"Gibbs!" He screamed, still running, past Tony's empty desk and the shocked Ziva.

"Gibbs!" He came to a stop in front of the man in question's desk, gasping from the exertion.

"Gibbs." He repeated his name again. Gibbs sighed.

"What, Carlson?" Gibbs barked.

Carlson jumped. "Something—umm, happened." He finished lamely, suddenly shy.

"What. Happened. Carlson?" Gibbs spoke each word as a sentence, putting emphasis on 'what' and 'Carlson.'

"It's—its Tony." Carlson gasped, still out of breath.

Gibbs entire body froze. Something had happened and it was Tony. It was _always_ Tony. Why was it _always_ Tony?

"What about Tony?" Gibbs spoke calmly, despite the internal turmoil, and slowly stood up.

"The house we were going to—well, it was a setup, Gibbs." Carlson stammered.

"The second Tony stepped onto the porch, it blew up. KABOOM!" Carlson mimicked a bomb explosion.

"Then these guys came and took Tony."

Gibbs head shot up and he glared at Carlson. McGee and Ziva immediately leaped out of their chairs and made to come at Carlson, only stopping when Gibbs lifted a hand to tell them to, his eyes never leaving Carlson's.

"What do you mean they _took_ Tony?" Gibbs asked, hoping, no _praying_, that he was wrong.

"I mean, these big guys dressed all in black walked over right after the explosion, knocked me out, took Tony then left." Carlson explained, seemingly guilty.

Gibbs held onto his tightly reined in anger and swiped a slightly shaking hand through his hair, blowing out a deep breath. He needed to remain calm or else he would never get through this. He couldn't freak out now, not now when Tony needed him.

"Why didn't you stop them, Carlson?" Gibbs growled, asking the obvious and trying to hold back the suddenly strong impulse to snap the other agent's neck.

Carlson paled. He looked scared, really scared. Like shit your pants, cry like a baby, scared. _Good, he better damn well be scared_, Gibbs thought maliciously.

"Umm, well, I mean—you see, Gibbs. Ummm—"

"Answer the damn question!" Gibbs shouted at the younger man, who immediately flinched and backed away a couple of steps.

He looked shocked that Gibbs had yelled at him. He turned to the other agents in the room, as though asking what to do. They simply glared back at him, both trying hard not to attack the idiot who was the reason their coworker, their friend, their _brother_ was now kidnapped, by some of the worst serial killers they had ever encountered.

Ziva was contemplating all the ways to kill this man with a paperclip while McGee was considering having Abby help him dismember Carlson and hide the body. Abby was the best; she could kill someone and leave behind absolutely _no_ forensic evidence. Both McGee _and_ Ziva knew that.

"Um, I couldn't." He defended himself, his voice barely over a whisper. "By the time I woke up they were already gone. With Tony." His voice shook a little at that last part.

Gibbs swallowed, hard. He tried not to think that this was happening. But it was, he knew it was.

Gibbs sighed. "How do you know they took Tony? He could have just gone somewhere without telling you."

Gibbs seriously doubted that. Where would Tony go that was so important he couldn't tell the team? Or answer any of their calls? Or texts?

"Because sir," Carlson's voice was still a little shaky, "they left this."

Gibbs watched as the younger agent held up two small items. He heard the gasp from Ziva and the cursing that followed by McGee as they realized what the items were. Ziva was cursing under her breath as well, in what sounded suspiciously like Hebrew.

The first item was a gun. A small, black, standard military issue gun that all agents were required to have.

The second was a badge. An NCIS badge. And it was Tony's, no doubt about it.

And just like that, Leroy Jethro Gibbs' entire life shattered right before his eyes.

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**Author's Note: Okay, I know it was a short chapter, but that will just make me speed up and update sooner! That's a good thing right? Besides, this was more of a 'get you ready for the real stuff' chapter. And I did warn you ahead of time. I just really wanted to have the team know what happened to Tony before the bigger stuff unfolds! Alright, thanks for reading and ill update soon. **

**~TonyDiNozzo42~**


	7. Coming to Grips

**Chapter 7: Coming to Grips**

**Author's Note: Sorry its taking me so long, guys. Just that I had a lot goin on with school and Christmas and New Years and my grandma got sick and all kinds of other things ya'll probably wouldn't care about anyway, so sorry. (Look, I even broke a Gibbs _rule_ for you!) Haha, okay next chapter! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer Note: Don't own it, wish I did, but sadly I don't. All credit goes to, as it always will, to the incredibly smart and talented Donald P. Belisario. **

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Time seemed to slow and almost stop as they stood, staring dumbfounded at the items Carlson held outstretched, as though holding them too close to himself may burn him.

Gibbs reached out a slightly shaking hand and took the gun and badge, _Tony's_ gun and badge, from Carlson. He studied them, biting back the rising emotion, and swallowed hard.

Then he suddenly snapped back into the jerky, second B as in bastard, boss. He needed to keep his team from falling apart, and the only way to do that was by not thinking about his own sorrows and problems, and being the leader they needed.

"McGee!" Gibbs barked. McGee's head shot up from where he was still staring at Gibbs' hands, or more specifically the things _in_ Gibbs' hands (Gibbs refused to think about what the implications of this was) as he looked up at his boss sheepishly.

"Uh, yeah, Boss?"

"Go down to Abby. Tell her to run DNA tests on—these." Gibbs gestured to the gun and badge he was currently holding. "Tell her to figure out as much as she can on who touched these besides Tony, Carlson, and myself."

McGee nodded and went forward to grab them when Gibbs stopped him, shaking his head.

"Gloves?" Gibbs growled at him.

McGee nodded again, and wordlessly snapped on a pair of latex gloves he kept in his desk. Then reached out and took the items from Gibbs, quietly moving towards the back elevator and to Abby's lab.

Ziva hadn't moved an inch from where she had stood angrily when Carlson had explained Tony's capture. She stood, silently fuming, not moving, not speaking.

Gibbs slowly approached, knowing the woman was lethal when angry or threatened, and slowly placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She flinched slightly away from the touch, but otherwise acted as though it went unnoticed.

"Ziver?" Gibbs questioned, softly.

Ziva slowly looked up from where she was burning a hole in the carpet and brought her eyes to her Boss' own ice blue ones.

"Yes, Gibbs?" She bit out. The anger was evident in her posture and biting tone, but it completely defied the inner turmoil clearly visible in her eyes. She was fighting a losing battle with herself. Half of her wanted to believe he'd be fine. The other half just wanted to scream and kick and cry and shoot Carlson.

But she knew that wouldn't accomplish anything, or help Tony at all. It would only lead her to a shitload of paperwork and a very angry Fornell.

"He'll be fine." Gibbs reassured his voice far more calm and steady than he felt.

"How do you know?"

Gibbs shook his head. "I don't. But this is Tony. He's tough; we just have to believe he'll be okay."

Ziva nodded, accepting that. She took a deep breath to steady herself before she stepped away from Gibbs and the hand on her shoulder.

"Ziva, I want you to figure out what the hell happened. Why that house blew up and who's behind it. Agent Picolla's wife is are main suspect now."

Ziva nodded and moved to her desk where she began researching anything she could on the dead agent's wife.

Gibbs sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before he shot out of the room for the elevator, mumbling something about needing more coffee.

#####################################################

Tony felt like crap as he slowly returned to the conscious world. The first thing he felt was pain. Immense amounts of pain. Wave after wave. It was unbearable.

He turned, trying to sit up from his position lying on the ground on his side, and winced as sharp pain shot through him. He groaned in misery and gasped as he finally managed a sitting position against the wall.

He surveyed his surroundings. He seemed to be in some underground hangar, says the mildew and damp feel of the small, square, brick-walled room. It was disgusting, to say the least. And cold. Extremely cold.

A shiver ran through the young agent, as though to confirm what he was thinking. Tony looked around, trying to find some sort of possible escape route. There were no windows, except for one small grate on the wall near the ceiling, just big enough to let in light, but not big enough for a full grown man to climb out of.

There was exactly one door; metal and impossible to break through. So he was stuck. He wasn't going anywhere, anytime soon.

He looked over himself, trying to evaluate the extent of his injuries. His arm hurt and it was hard to move, probably broken. His legs were definitely burned, and now that he had a closer look, they seemed to be peeling and bleeding. They were covered in blisters and would take a long time to heal at the rate of possible escape he was currently experiencing.

His clothes were ripped; exposing to the world his battered and bruised chest and stomach. He was still healing from the bomb just yesterday, so his entire body was now a collage of multi-colored bruises. Some were nearly healed and yellowing, while the fresher ones were black and blue and purple. All ranges of the color spectrum were displayed clearly on his lean and once handsome body.

Tony groaned as the sun flashed in his eyes, causing pain to shoot through his head that, until now, he hadn't realized was throbbing. He definitely had a concussion. He mentally ran through all the questions he knew Gibbs would ask him if he knew he was concussed and answered them quickly and with great ease:

"_**What's your name?"**_

"Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo Jr."

"_**Who's the President?"**_

"Obama."

"_**What year is it?"**_

"2011."

"_**Who am I?"**_

Tony paused as that question flashed through his mind and stopped himself from saying the name that was on the tip of his tongue, the name he so wanted to say.

It was the normal routine he and Gibbs had, and up until that question, he hadn't realized he had been asking himself as though it were a conversation, rather than a memory.

He tried to force himself not to say the name, not to even think it, but he opened his mouth, despite himself.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs."He spoke aloud, to no one in particular. He winced.

Well, damn. It was gonna be a long day.

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Gibbs had bought his favorite coffee at his favorite coffee stand in the park near the Navy Yard. He was sitting on his favorite bench doing his favorite thing (besides building boats in his basement and drinking bourbon of course), and that was watching the kids laugh and play as he remembered his own daughter. He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the park bench.

Soon enough he'd go back to his favorite job where his favorite forensic scientist and surrogate daughter would wrap him up in his favorite type of hug, telling him everything would be okay. Comforting him when he should be doing just that for her.

Then his favorite computer 'not-so-much-Probie' nerd would tell him he "_Found something on ballistics with the weapon, Boss! Isn't that great?" _As though everything was still just peachy. As though they weren't still missing a part of themselves, a very real, very large part.

Then his favorite ex-Mossad officer turned Special Agent would tell him she found recent calls on _his_ cell phone records and they'd trace them and track them and might find something, but probably nothing.

And despite everything, something was still missing. Something was still off. Despite all of his favorite things and people, despite the bright, sunny, cheerful day, he was still missing one favorite that mattered more to him than all the others combined, even the coffee and the boat.

And that was _him_.

.

Tony

The very man they were very desperately trying to find.

He was his favorite agent, his favorite partner, his favorite friend, his favorite…._everything_.

He missed his smile, the way he lit up the room, _any_ room, he was in. He could make a rainy day sunny again; just with his smile.

He missed the jokes, however corny they were that he told at inappropriate moments to get the team laughing again; to erase some tension.

He missed the movie quotes and references, that he somehow managed to hit right on the head every time, no matter how far fetched the movie was; no matter how bad he was at sounding like the actor he was currently trying to portray.

He missed his quiet gravity; the way everyone moved to him and leaned on him as their beacon of light and support, as the glue that kept them together.

And most of all, Gibbs missed those eyes, the way he could convey absolutely any emotion through them.

That was something Gibbs had always envied about the younger man. No matter how thick a mask Tony pasted on his face to hide behind, he could always read any emotion in those damn expressive eyes. Gibbs had always had trouble with that.

Gibbs and Tony were the same in they constantly hid behind masks and false bravado to hide their true emotions, their true feelings. The difference was Tony wore his heart on his sleeve, no matter how hard he tried to deny it, to hide it. His emotions were there, always.

Gibbs, not so much. And that's what he loved about Tony. He loved the way he cared so damn much about everyone and everything. He put his entire self, heart and all, into a relationship. And that was why he was so scared of relationships, of commitment. Because he always got hurt. Every time.

Without Tony, they were empty, they were alone. They were nothing.

They were the best team at NCIS, with the highest solve rate. And yet, without Tony, without their prankster to lighten their hearts, their glue that held them together, they were slowly falling apart.

Gibbs sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. He shouldn't get caught up in his thoughts like this. His emotions. They had a case to solve.

He stood, slowly, and made his way to the Navy Yard, as he tried to think of something to do when he got back to work.

He didn't want to sit at his desk, consumed in his thoughts as he felt the worried and trustworthy stares of his agents boring into him, silently asking the unasked questions.

They thought he could fix everything; that he could use his "magic powers" and bring Tony back to them, healthy and whole and _**safe. **_

But he just couldn't promise that. He couldn't make a promise, he wasn't sure he was able to keep. It wasn't fair. Not for them, and certainly not for himself. He couldn't keep lying to himself, not again.

Gibbs sighed. Sometimes being the Boss had its limits. Constantly feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders was not something Gibbs enjoyed having everyday. His agents were incredibly intellectual and observant; good at solving problems, but each had their own baggage to carry, and because of it, looked to him to solve their problems, to help them.

Abby always said they were a family, and Gibbs had made a rule a long time ago about that. You do what you have to do for family. It was the unspoken rule, the one that you never said, but everyone understood. Franks inspired that one, when he encouraged Gibbs to do what he had to with Pedro Hernandez way back when he was going through his dark times, before he'd joined NIS.

He'd always liked Mike, even before he'd become his Boss, and long before he became his friend.

_Ducky_, Gibbs decided. _I'll go see Ducky_.

He just hoped that his old friend would have better news than his team. He prayed, to whatever God he stopped believing in after Shannon and Kelly, that the Scotsman would have found something to help them, and that Tony could hang in there just a little bit longer.

For the team and for Gibbs himself.

#####################################################

The whoosh of the autopsy doors opening brought Ducky out of his mini-monologue as he turned his attention to the man who had just barged in unannounced.

"Ah, hello Jethro. I was beginning to wonder when I would see you down here."

Gibbs nodded at the doctor and glanced over at his medical assistant. "Give us a minute Palmer?" at the shocked look on the younger man's face, he added, "Please?"

Palmer nodded and immediately began walking out the door. When Gibbs said please, you knew it was important.

"I'll just ahh, be in Abby's lab if you need me Doctor."

Ducky nodded. "Yes, yes of course Mr. Palmer."

Ducky then looked over at his friend, the concern evident in his face. "What is it Jethro?"

He jumped as a fist suddenly came down to land violently on one of his autopsy tables. "I want this bastard Duck!" Gibbs growled.

Ducky nodded sympathetically. "I know Jethro. We all do. We are all worried for young Anthony, Jethro; it's not just you."

Even though Gibbs knew his friend was trying to comfort him, he could still hear the accusation clear in his voice.

"You sayin' this is _my_ fault, Duck?"

Ducky sighed. "No, no of course not, Jethro! I would never blame you for something this tragic! I am simply trying to make you understand that you are not the only one that cares."

Gibbs sighed. He was right. He was acting like a complete j-hole lately. Gibbs nodded at Ducky, acknowledging what the older man said, and then did the only thing he could think to do.

He changed the subject.

"So what'd ya got, Duck?" Gibbs moved towards the table he and Palmer had been at before he barged in.

"Well, the poor boy didn't stand a chance, Jethro." Ducky sighed sadly.

"What happened to him?"

"He was starved, Jethro, for many days. And tortured as well. Horribly tortured." Ducky pulled back the sheet to reveal Agent Pocola's mottled and scarred chest.

"Time of death?"

"About 12 hours ago, Jethro, which would estimate this poor boy's death around 0100 this morning."

"The murderer was there today. Which means that they would have no problem getting to his house to kidnap another agent." Gibbs deduced.

Ducky nodded. "Yes, Jethro. And it had to be someone who knew this man well. You see these lacerations here?" He indicated Pocola's upper arms. "These could only have been obtained if he had allowed the other to get close."

Jethro nodded. "You think it was the wife?"

Ducky nodded. "I believe our young Anthony's theory of 'Blame the wife' certainly is suspect here."

Gibbs sighed. "Yeah."

Ducky patted Gibbs shoulder and gave him a knowing look.

"You'll find him?"

Gibbs shook his head and turned to walk out the door as he called over his shoulder.

"That a question or a statement, Duck?" the autopsy doors whooshed as they opened and closed behind the agent.

Ducky sighed as he turned to the dead body on his table. "A little bit of both I'm afraid."

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**A.N. Sooooo, tell me what you think! Bonus points for anyone who can figure out the part I directly quoted from a previous episode of NCIS and what episode it's from ;) **

**Love and kisses to you all! **

**~TonyDiNozzo42~ **


	8. Faking Appearances

**Chapter 8: Faking Appearances **

**Summary: When Osama bin Laden is killed, everyone thinks things are gonna get better now. Everyone except Gibbs and Tony. They've got this weird gut feeling that something's gonna happen that's gonnna change the outcome of everything they've worked for. When distinguished individuals and federal agents start to mysteriously disappear and wind up dead, can NCIS' best team of agents figure out what's going on before it's too late? Or will they lose another one of their own? Tony whump and lots of protective Gibbs! Chapter 8 is up! **

**Author's Note: Hey guess what? Next week NCIS' 200th episode premiers! Yay! Anyone else as excited as I am? I hear it's gonna be EPIC! Love to all, enjoy! **

**Disclaimer Note: Second verse, same as the first! **

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Tony gasped as another wave of pain and nausea washed through him. It was becoming damn near unbearable. He didn't understand what they possibly wanted from him. They seemed to just beat him whenever they felt like it.

He was currently undergoing one of those random beatings.

And boy, they didn't mess around.

They chained his hands to the ceiling, so his limp and shirtless body dangled sickeningly. They then used whatever they could get their hands on to mar and scar the once smooth expanse of golden-tanned skin. Cigarette butts, knifes, clubs, whips, bats, whatever.

And it hurt like hell.

And there didn't seem to be any method to their madness; just this incredibly sadistic urge to harm him in any way, shape or form. They weren't even interrogating him, like Tony had expected. They weren't asking for any information; just delivering pain, and suffering, and unbelievable cruelty.

Tony gasped and tossed his head back as one of the "interrogators" smashed the end of a lit cigarette into the small of his back while simultaneously slicing him up like a smoked ham.

He winced as he felt the stinging of his burnt skin battling for recognition over the new slash to his mottled back.

He tensed when he felt the man slowly walk around his body. He was now in front of Tony, and that couldn't be good.

"Well, well Agent DiNozzo, aren't you a good boy." The man sneered, mockingly. "You haven't made a single noise the entire time."

"What." Tony swallowed, his throat was so dry. "What do you want?" he croaked.

"Oh, sweetheart, we want nothing. Only you." The man stroked Tony's cheek and he shivered, disgusted.

Then he leaned forward until his cheek was touching Tony's and whispered in his ear.

"You would know if we wanted something…..else." then he took the knife and ran its tip along his other cheek, drawing a line down his face lightly.

Tony's body started to shake.

"Oh baby, don't shake. Its okay." The man mock soothed him, chuckling darkly.

Then all of a sudden, he increased pressure on the knife and Tony was screaming. A white-hot pain engulfed him as he felt the sticky heat make its way down his cheek from the huge gash there, and the second gash on his throat.

He hadn't even felt that knife.

Then Tony blacked out, his head falling forward, his eyes closing. Before he passed out, he could just make out the bald man chuckling evilly above him.

And then there was only blackness.

#####################################################

The silence in the bullpen was thick and palpable, almost suffocatingly so. The steady _click-clack_ of computer keys the only audible sound. It was so silent; you could hear a pen drop and reverberate around the room.

_And_ it was carpet.

Tacky carpet, at that.

McGee was sure, that if Tony were here, he would make some inappropriate joke about pens dropping on said tacky carpet, and how McGee should get his head out of the gutter. Tony always did have that annoyingly accurate gift of always knowing what he was thinking.

Just the thought made McGee chuckle, despite himself, but he immediately cut himself off.

Because Tony wasn't here. He was trapped away with some insane terrorist cell, kidnapped, most likely being tortured.

Tony had an uncanny ability to seek out trouble at every turn, and in return, trouble seemed to constantly find him.

Like he was a magnet.

And _no_, Tony couldn't have just _normal_ trouble like a _normal_ cop. He couldn't get kidnapped by the _normal_ drug dealer bad guys like countless other _normal_ cops in D.C.

**No! **_**Of course not!**_ He had to go and get kidnapped by the most dangerous terrorist cell in the entire world!

Way to reach for the stars, Tony.

McGee sighed, and dropped his head into his hands that now rested on the surface of his desk. It wasn't fair for him to blame Tony. It's not like it was his fault anyway, not like he _wanted_ to get kidnapped and tortured.

It was just easier to blame someone else, even if it wasn't totally logical sometimes.

The stress he was under, would give any therapist a field day.

But that was just part of the job. They were all under stress, 24/7. Constantly. The minute they walked in the door, they knew they would have some sort of stressful situation to deal with.

The thing is, they didn't all have to think about it quite like this, because they'd always had Tony to relieve their stress.

And that's when it all hit McGee like a wrecking ball. The gravity of the situation. Tony was gone. He was _gone_, kidnapped.

No more stress relieving banter.

No more inappropriate jokes, told at incredibly appropriate times.

No more broad smiles to brighten his day.

No more nicknames.

No more _"Hey Probie, wanna hang out tonight?"_

No more movie quotes.

No more horrible impersonations.

No more Tony.

McGee glanced up and looked across the bullpen at Ziva, who was currently typing something into her computer with a confused frown on her face. He winced when she slammed her fist on her keyboard in frustration, even though he'd long ago realized that no one even looked up anymore.

Then he glanced over at his Boss. He seemed almost worse than the two of them combined. Though all of them had rarely left the office at all in the past week, other than coffee runs or trying to catch a few z's, the boss seemed to be taking all of this the hardest.

He had dark circles under his eyes, his normally pristine silver hair was a massive tangle and even his clothes seemed to sag and droop off his lean frame. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, which was probably true.

Most likely all he did when he went home, _if_ he went home, was stay up all night working on the boat and drinking bourbon, whilst thinking about Tony.

McGee sighed and looked back at his computer. Might as well get back to work.

#####################################################

It had been a week.

An agonizingly long week of nothings.

No new leads.

No sightings.

No hits on any BOLOs.

_Nothing_.

As though he'd simply fallen off the face of the earth.

Where the hell could he be?

Gibbs was starting to lose his mind. He couldn't handle it. It was driving him _crazy_. Because when it came down to it, this was all _his_ fault. Tony was _his_ responsibility. _His_ agent. _His_ partner.

_His_ friend.

Gibbs suddenly stood and, grumbling something about coffee, headed for the elevator.

He could feel his agents' eyes on him. Watching him. Wondering what he was thinking, no doubt.

When the elevator doors closed, he smacked the emergency stop button, causing the elevator to come to a stuttering halt.

Gibbs closed his eyes and leaned his body back against the elevator wall, his body shaking. That's when he completely lost it.

He started pacing in the small space, like a caged animal as he muttered to himself.

"Why him? Please God, why him?"

It didn't make any sense; how could one man attract so much trouble, so much pain, so much suffering?

Gibbs ran his shaking hands through his hair, all the emotions he had battled to suppress the last week coming out in a fit of rage. He growled and violently threw the unfinished coffee at the elevator wall, watching it explode as coffee went everywhere.

"Damn it! Where the hell is he?" Gibbs screamed as he pounded his fist against the elevator wall. Once, twice, three times. By now his hand was bleeding.

He didn't even feel the sting of the pain.

It was all numb, everything was numb.

Then he turned and felt himself slowly slide down the elevator wall to land on the ground, his knees pulled up to his chest, head bent down, arms resting lightly on his knees as his shaking hands ran through his tangled mass of salt-and-pepper hair.

That's when he started to cry.

For the first time since his girls, he let himself cry, let all the pent up emotions run wild in his little escape from reality.

He gasped through the tears. "Why? Why God? Why him? Please bring him back to me!"

His anguished voice cracked as he spoke; the voice of a man who was slowly dying inside, the voice of a man who was losing someone they loved.

His breathes came in quick, short gasps as he battled to control himself. The tears were hot and wet on his face and as they dripped into his mouth, he tasted their bitter saltiness.

His entire body was shaking.

Gibbs closed his eyes and whispered pleadingly into his folded hands and started to do something he hadn't done in a very long time.

He began to pray.

"Please." He whispered. "Please keep him safe, God. Please help me find him. I-I" His voice cracked here. "I need him. I need him here, alive. _Please_."

Gibbs slowly stood and wiped the still falling tears off his face. He took a deep breath to calm his breathing, and straightened his clothes before starting the elevator again.

When the doors opened to the lobby, the phone in his pocket began to ring.

He took it out and flipped it open.

"Gibbs." He sighed, voice slightly strangled. God, he was so tired all of a sudden.

"Umm, Boss?"

Gibbs tensed. That tone of voice could only mean one thing. He walked back over to the elevator.

"Where is he, McGee?"

"Boss, we don't know _exactly _—"

"Well what do you know, McGee?" Gibbs barked as he pushed the elevator button in staccato bursts. He was quickly losing his patience.

"You might wanna get up here. Like now."

"Workin' on it, McGee." Gibbs growled into the receiver.

"Well work harder, Boss." McGee snapped back. Gibbs winced. He could clearly hear the hurt in his voice and could almost _see_ the way he was most likely putting his back up now, standing up for himself.

Standing up for Tony.

Gibbs sighed. The kid didn't deserve that. Just 'cause he was scared for Tony and pissed at the bastard that took him, didn't mean he could take it out on everyone around him.

He did anyway. That second 'B' had to stand for something, after all.

Gibbs was about to say something that was not exactly an apology, but close enough without coming right out and saying it, when he realized something.

McGee had already hung up.

_McGee_ hung up.

On _Gibbs_. That never happened.

Damn it! This better be important!

Gibbs growled in annoyance as the elevator _finally_ arrived at the lobby with a cheerful _ding_ and he stepped inside. Gibbs could only hope that whatever he was about to see wouldn't totally shatter his existence.

'_Please be okay, Tony.'_

#####################################################

**A.N. Uh oh! Something happened with Tony! Again! I just love being mean to my little DiNozzo don't I? And before you leave any crazy comments, I know Gibbs crying was a little OC, but we've never had Tony in a situation before where he would most likely not come out of it alive, so therefore no one really knows how Gibbs would react. This is difficult for all of them, not just Gibbs and they all deal with their emotions differently. Anyways! Hope ya'll liked it! And even if you didn't, you should totally leave a review (or three ;). That little button down below needs a little love too! Thanks!**

**~TonyDiNozzo42~**


	9. I'll Be Okay, Boss

**Chapter 9: I'll Be Okay, Boss**

**Summary: When Osama bin Laden is killed, everyone thinks things are gonna get better now. Everyone except Gibbs and Tony. They've got this weird gut feeling that something's gonna happen that's gonnna change the outcome of everything they've worked for. When distinguished individuals and federal agents start to mysteriously disappear and wind up dead, can NCIS' best team of agents figure out what's going on before it's too late? Or will they lose another one of their own? Tony whump and lots of protective Gibbs! Chapter 9 is up! **

**Disclaimer Note: Don't own it, wish I did, and too lazy to think of some clever way of saying it.**

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Gibbs strode into the bullpen, his entire being radiating authority, every stride showing purpose.

McGee immediately jumped to attention when he saw the man enter, followed by Ziva not too long afterwards. They both glanced at each other when they saw Gibbs' hand, but didn't say anything, something Gibbs was thankful for.

"Alright, talk to me, McGee." Gibbs growled, thoroughly terrified by now.

"Uh Boss—well we, I mean…" McGee was struggling to get out a complete sentence.

"McGee." Gibbs warned.

Ziva suddenly jumped in. "We got a message from the kidnapper."

He turned on her, eyebrow raised. "A message."

Ziva nodded. "Yes, an e-mail stating that you will be receiving a call shortly from Tony and that now the stakes are higher. They also have the dead Lieutenant's wife and 8-year-old niece with them." Gibbs visibly flinched at that. Everyone knew how hard kids in a case were.

McGee seemed to have found his voice and nodded. "Yeah, Boss, it was all a trap, the wife was never at the home when Tony and Agent Carlson visited it. They just wanted to get the wife and the little girl but somehow, Tony got wrapped up in it too."

"Yes, they said they are using them as bait of some sort, something about a—uh, random?"

"It's ransom, Ziva." McGee corrected quietly.

Gibbs' blood ran cold. He hated to even _think_ of Tony like that, kidnapped and held for ransom. It sent shivers down his spine.

He nodded, not letting the fear show on his face. "I guess we'll just have to wait, then." He sat at his desk and stared at his computer screen, though he wasn't seeing anything, and stayed like that for about 10 minutes as they all faked actual work. Then, Gibbs' desk phone rang.

He immediately grabbed it and picked it up, looking pointedly at McGee first to signify he needed to start the trace and record the call. McGee nodded his understanding and started typing quickly at his computer.

"Gibbs." He put the phone on speaker so McGee and Ziva could hear as well.

"Hey Boss." The hoarse and strangled voice of his Senior Field Agent sang through the speaker. Gibbs felt all his muscles relax. After spending over 24 hours thinking the younger man was dead, it was a relief to hear his voice.

"How ya' doin, DiNozzo?"

"Not bad, not bad. Ya' know Boss, you should hang out with my buddies here, you'd probably like 'em, though they're not nearly as much fun as all those ex-wives ya' got."

Gibbs froze and let a small smile creep up his face as he realized what Tony was doing. He was sending him a message; one he couldn't speak freely.

"Ya think, DiNozzo?" Gibbs drawled. He heard Tony chuckle over the line.

"Tony," Gibbs knew he had to ask this, it was eating at him, "The girl and the wife, they there too?"

"Oh yah, Boss, they're here. The lady's great! I think you'd really like her." There was a pause. "She kinda reminds me of Kate."

Gibbs felt his insides freeze. Though the words had been spoken off-handedly and nonchalantly, the meaning behind them struck home hard. He could feel McGee staring at him and heard Ziva stand to get closer to the phone.

Gibbs swallowed hard and forced his voice to work normally. "And the girl?" He was almost afraid to ask.

"Oh, no she's nothing like Kate, Boss. More like Abby." Tony stated matter-of-factly.

Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief. The girl was still okay, but for how much longer was the question.

"Tony, can you tell me anything about where you are? Anything at all?" The meaning behind the question was two-fold. There was the obvious can you tell me where you are, but underneath it was more of a question of are you able to without giving too much away.

Apparently he was. "Ya know Boss, this place is kinda creepy. It reminds me of that place we had to go to for the Maddie Tyler case. Remember that one? She was kidnapped, you went all Lone Wolf and saved her and then I had to save both your asses cause of the car fiasco? It's all damp and musky and kinda in that same area if ya' know what I mean, Boss." Tony spoke the last sentence in a quieter tone for Gibbs' ears only and not his captors'. Gibbs shook his head. _Way to go Tony._

"Oh yah, I know what ya' mean, Tony." Gibbs said nonchalantly as he leaned back in his chair. To anybody just listening to either half of the conversation, it would seem like two friends chit-chatting, and they wouldn't hear the underlying meaning behind their words.

"Hey Boss." Tony sounded really urgent and serious all of a sudden, and Gibbs felt all the calm fade from his body as he tensed and sat up.

"What's up Tony?" He forced his voice to sound normal.

"You are gonna get me home, right?" Gibbs felt his insides twist painfully at the way his agent's voice suddenly sounded so frightened and little boyish.

"Of course, Tony." Gibbs assured roughly. Then, as a thought hit him. "Why do ya' ask."

"Oh, ya know. I've just got a James Bond marathon waiting for me at home in two days. A big one too, all the Sean Connery films back to back. It'll be a total blowout." Tony seemed to enunciate blowout a little too much. "Gonna host it at my house."

This puzzled Gibbs. Tony had an apartment, not a house. Why would he say house and not apartment.

"House?" Gibbs questioned, having a really bad feeling he wasn't going to like the answer. Tony'd already used Sean Connery and blowout in ways he figured weren't what they were usually meant for.

"Yeah ya' know Boss, the really big one back home in D.C. Ya' know, the one painted white." This time, he put minute emphasis on big, D.C. and white. So minute, someone passively listening wouldn't normally catch it. But Gibbs got it.

"Oh, yah, I remember now." Gibbs offered, trying to make Tony understand he got the message. And what a message it was.

He heard Tony let out a breath. "Cool. Maybe we could invite the team and make a party out of it." The obvious double meaning behind it made Gibbs blink. Tony was real good at this whole secret conversation thing.

"Sure Tony. Hey, you take care of yourself okay? We'll be there as soon as we can, promise. Watch your six." The '_while I can't'_ part went unsaid.

"Always, Boss." Tony sounded tired and resigned, but slightly less strangled than when this conversation began.

The line went dead.

Gibbs just sat there for a minute, staring off into space. What he'd just learned about his agent's captors was a lot to process.

"Boss?" The tentative voice of his youngest agent broke him from his contemplative state. He looked up at McGee.

"Yeah, McGee."

He looked uncomfortable. "I—uh couldn't get a trace on the phone. It seemed to be blocked by something."

Gibbs nodded thoughtfully. McGee shared a look with Ziva. He wasn't as angry as they thought he would be.

"Gibbs?" Ziva tried. "You know something, don't you?"

Gibbs stood abruptly and went straight for the Director's office. When they didn't follow he turned around and gave them a look. "Well, what are ya' waiting for, an invitation! Come on."

Gibbs walked right into Vance's office, Ziva and McGee on his heels.

Vance stood. "Why do I even bother having a door." He said dryly, the ever-present toothpick in his mouth.

Gibbs ignored him. "Leon, we have information on Tony and the two captives' whereabouts."

Vance nodded, his eyes alert. "And what's this information, Gibbs."

"DiNozzo just called from one of his three captor's cell phones. They were brought to the docks. The wife's dead but the little girl's still alive."

Vance nodded. "That's good to know. We'll send your team and Agent Fornell's team down there immediately to apprehend the suspects and retrieve the victims." Vance started walking behind his desk to call up the Feebs.

"There's more, Leon."

Vance froze, hand poised over his phone. By the tone of voice from the other agent, it wasn't good.

Leon stood and waved a hand in his direction. "Then by all mean, continue."

"Tony has information that these terrorists are going to blow-up the White House."

And that was it. The bomb was dropped as all the air was sucked from the room, making it difficult to breathe.

Vance just stared at him, mouth open as though he was going to say something, but it was McGee who broke the silence first.

"You got all that from what Tony said?" McGee sounded appalled.

Leon just shook his head. "When Jethro?" His voice was just above a whisper.

"Two days, Leon. In two days they're gonna blow up the White House and kill anyone in it. But I know that they're not gonna let their hostages live. Tony'll be dead by tomorrow, at the latest."

Vance nodded. "Then I guess we have no time to spare."

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A.N.: And SCENE! Did ya' like it? Huh huh huhhhh? I spent a REALLYYYY long time working on this to perfect it and I like how it turned out….It wasn't till yesterday I kinda had an epiphany and realized how I want this to go, so here it is!

Hey everyone give the little blue button down below some lovin' and I'll try to wrap this up as soon as possible now that I know where I'm going. Alright love and kisses!

~TonyDiNozzo42~


	10. I'm Coming For You

**Ch. 10: I'm Coming For You**

**A.N.: Sooooo, heres my new update! I think it ended up pretty okay, but let me know what ya'll think! At least things start wrapping up now! Love!**

**Disclaimer Note: Duh, I don't own NCIS (only the first season on DVD…;) so don't expect anything on here to be on TV anytime soon…though it'd be real cool if the producers decided to listen to their fans and fanfiction writers every once in a while…right?**

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The door swung open and slammed violently against the wall of his own personal hell.

Tony flinched.

A man Tony had never seen before, with large muscles and a scowl that could rival Gibbs', stepped in. His black hair was cropped short and his black eyes glittered with something vile, something…not human. There was a huge, ugly scar slashed across his face starting where his hair met his left temple and traveling down over his left eye and past his lips, marring his face.

The room seemed to drop 10 degrees in that instant.

"What did you tell him?" The man growled at Tony, stepping menacingly closer.

Tony shrugged. "I didn't tell him anything more than what ya' heard." Tony lied convincingly.

The guy didn't seem to believe him.

"I know your lying. You're a damn fed! You probably used some damn code." He was getting really close now and Tony was starting to get nervous.

He glanced over to where the little girl was dozing from whatever drugs they'd given her and where the mom's body was still laying. The same place they'd been when he'd woken up the last time.

He didn't know what happened and had been in the process of trying to figure it out when his "bodyguards", Thing 1 and Thing 2, (as Tony had dubbed them) had waltzed in and forcefully tied him to this chair as they held one of their cell phones to his ear, ordering him to talk to his Boss. Obviously, they were now rethinking that idea.

"What. Did. You. Say. To. Him?" The guy snarled, snapping Tony back into the situation. He really needed a name for this guy. _Bowser_, Tony decided. The way he snarled reminded him of a boxer that his neighbor owned and his name was Bowser.

"I told you already. Everything you heard. Nothing else." Damn, bad guys could be real dense.

Tony suddenly felt a stinging pain flash across his cheek. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, making sure to take deep breathes. Damn, he had quite a left hook. Tony shook his head a little and blinked a few times until the room stopped spinning.

Bowser lifted his fist, as though to hit him again, then stopped. Tony froze, barely breathing. What was he doing?

All of a sudden, an evil grin spread across his face. Tony felt a chill run up his spine. Bowser turned towards the door and jerked his head, beckoning in whoever was on the other side.

Tony gasped. No. No, not _him_.

The man smiled. "Hello Tony."

Tony growled, anger overriding everything else. "Carlson. You damn bastard." Tony jerked his arms from where they were tied behind his chair, trying to get out so he could punch his face in, the damn traitor. "We trusted you. _I_ trusted you."

Carlson shook his head. "Well Tony, sometimes trust can be misleading, as you'll soon find out." He snapped his fingers and Thing 1 walked in.

Tony chuckled. "I should have known you were orchestrating all of this, should have known that you never really cared. What'd ya do? Blow up the house too?" Tony nodded over at the dead woman and knocked out girl. "Kill the lady, beat up the innocent girl? And you call yourself an agent, defending your country."

Tony shook his head. "You're just a damn traitor."

Carlson's face twisted into something almost akin to anguish. "It's not like that Tony." He said in a low voice. "You don't understand what he's capable of. He—he tricked me, coerced me into this."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Who, Carlson. Who did this?"

Carlson got a glazed look in his eyes. "I—I cant tell you that."

Tony sighed. "I can't help you unless you tell me what's going on, Jimmy."

Carlson's gaze snapped back to Tony and his eyes blazed in rage. "I don't need your help, or anyone else's." He spat. "I can take care of myself."

Carlson looked at Thing 1 and nodded. He walked over to Tony, who tensed. Then, to Tony's surprise, untied him and pulled him up and out of the chair, roughly. A puff of air left Tony's lips as he grimaced in pain when pressure was put on his bad knee and Thing 1 gripped a little too hard on his already bruised arm.

Carlson slowly walked up to Tony and stared straight into his eyes. Tony stared right back, unflinching.

"You told him, didn't you Tony? Told Gibbs about our little plan?" Tony tensed. Carlson would know, he is an FBI agent after all.

Carlson sighed and shook his head. "Oh, Tony. I really didn't want to have to do this…." Carlson actually sounded almost regretful. Then he pulled his arm back and plunged a huge, 8-inch knife into Tony's abdomen.

Tony gasped out in pain as his knees buckled and nearly dropped him, Thing 1's grip on him the only reason he was standing. His hands flew to his stomach, trying to hold in the precious blood as he nearly doubled over.

He hadn't seen that coming. How hadn't he seen the knife? He should have seen the knife. Was he just so distracted by the girl and his worry for Gibbs that he'd put his instincts on the backburner?

Carlson patted Tony's shoulder and frowned a little. "I'm so sorry Tony, but I couldn't let Gibbs stop us. This will give him a distraction when he comes to find you, may buy us some time. Of course, by then, you'll most likely be dead." Carlson tilted his head thoughtfully, and then grinned. He suddenly turned his head at Bowser.

"Get the girl. Put her in the car, she's coming with us." Bowser nodded and moved to do as he was told. The girl still hadn't woken up yet and that scared Tony.

"No!" Tony shouted out through his pain. "Don't—don't take her. Leave her alone, take me instead."

Carlson smiled fondly at Tony. "Ah Tony, you are so valiant. I've always admired that in you, always wished I could be as brave as you." Carlson shook his head. "But, the sad truth is, we can't take you. If we do, you may die faster and then there'd be no point in distracting Gibbs anymore. No, this is definitely better." Carlson nodded, as though he'd just figured everything out.

Then Thing 1 let go of Tony and suddenly he was falling down to his knees. The pain of his injured knee hitting the asphalt mingled with the pain of all his other wounds being jostled made stars explode in front of his eyes and his head to spin as the white-hot pain radiated throughout his body.

Tony moaned softly and grabbed at his abdomen where the blood was still flowing freely, trying desperately to stop it. He heard talking and movement then the sound of a car being started. Then nothing. They were gone, probably already getting ready for their big finale tomorrow.

Tony knew he didn't have much time left, could already feel the tingly numbness crawling through his limbs and knew he needed to call Gibbs, needed to tell his Boss what was going on and that he needed to get there fast, to not worry about him. If he was gonna die, might as well do it while trying to save someone else, right? That is why he'd wanted to be a cop in the first place, to help people.

Tony carefully crawled over to the dead woman, making sure to hold his breath so he couldn't smell the decaying body, and started pawing through her clothes. It was a long shot, but he might find her cell phone in there.

Tony shouted out in triumph when his hands found the cool plastic and pulled it out.

"Haha, there ya' are, little guy!" Carefully, with bloody and trembling fingers, Tony typed in Gibbs' number. He had to squint to see the glowing screen as his vision started getting kinda fuzzy, but was able to make out the numbers.

As the phone started ringing, Tony held it to his ear and prayed his Boss would answer.

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Gibbs practically ran out of Vance's office when he got the okay, McGee and Ziva hot on his tail, and jogged down the stairs to their bullpen.

"Grab your gear." He ordered immediately as Ziva and McGee did just that. Their first priority was Tony. Find Tony, then deal with this supposed White House bombing. Tony was more important.

Just as they were rounding their desks to step into the elevator, Abby came running around the corner, boots clomping all the way as she stepped off the back elevator.

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, GIBBS!" Abby chanted as she ran to them.

Gibbs sighed. He didn't have time for this. _Tony_ didn't have time for this. "What, Abbs." He asked and tried not to sound too frustrated with her. It really wasn't her fault. She's worried just as much as he is too.

Abby frowned. "Didya get any leads on Tony yet?"

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah, were goin' there right now."

Abby nodded vigorously. "Okay Gibbs, but be careful. These guys are terrorists and they're evil. They don't care about anyone or what they do. Take care of yourself and please, please, _please_, bring our Tony home." Abby had tears in her eyes and Gibbs felt his heart clench a little. Tony's her best friend, and if he didn't make it, she'd lose it.

He grabbed her into a hug. He could feel her trembling a little as she held him tight. "I will Abbs, I promise." He whispered in her hair. "I'm gonna bring him home." He felt her nod against his chest and pressed a kiss in her hair.

"Atta girl, Abbs." Gibbs pulled back and saw her face streaked in black from her mascara and wiped it a little with his thumb. He tugged lightly on one of her pigtails bringing a small smile to her face.

That was when the elevator dinged and they were stepping on and then they were gone.

Just as Gibbs was about to get into the driver's seat of his car, his phone rang. It was a number he didn't recognize.

Gibbs frowned. He answered the phone with his usual gruff, "Gibbs."

"Boss." The strangled voice came over the line. Immediately, Gibbs was on high-alert.

"Tony, where are you. What's going on?" He saw McGee's head jerk up to meet his eyes and Ziva freeze next to him.

Tony gasped. "Boss, they got the girl. They got her and I think they're takin' her with them to set up the bomb." Tony drew in a ragged breath. "You need to stop them, they're gonna hurt her, Boss."

Gibbs looked up at Ziva and nodded at her, telling her silently to drive. He didn't think he'd be able to if he really wanted to pay attention to this conversation. Gibbs traded places with McGee and McGee jumped in the back seat as they tore outta there.

"Alright Tony, were on our way now. Where are you?"

Tony gasped. "Same place. Those damn docks. But get the girl, Boss. I'll be fi—"Tony was cut off by racking coughs. "Fine. I'll be" _a gasp_ "fine."

Gibbs felt his gut clench. He didn't sound fine at all. "Tony, where are you hurt." Gibbs asked roughly, trying to control the sudden rising fear.

Tony's voice flared angrily. "Doesn't…matter, Boss." Tony wheezed. "I'm…fine." He started coughing again and Gibbs winced at the raw, wet sound.

"Dammit, DiNozzo! The girl'll be fine for a little longer. I'm more worried about you!" Gibbs shouted the last words, the worry and fear coming out as anger.

"Ah, Boss." Tony panted. "Didn't know you…cared."

Gibbs sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Ah hell, I've always cared, Tony." His voice was low and just a little over a whisper.

Tony grinned, feeling a sudden warmth spread inside him at the softly spoken admission. "Really, Boss? Knew all those head slaps were signs of affection."

Gibbs involuntarily smiled a little. He glanced over at Ziva who was still watching the road intently as she flew towards their destination. They were at the docks.

"Tony, were here. We'll be there soon. Just hang on a little longer." Gibbs' eyes scanned the warehouse numbers, trying to find the one he was sure Tony was in.

Tony coughed over the line. "Not…checkin' out…yet, Boss." Tony gasped, trying to catch his breath.

Gibbs nodded. "Atta boy, just hang in there, alright?" Gibbs suddenly saw it, the number of the warehouse where Tony had saved his and Maddie's asses so long ago. "There, Ziva! That's the one!"

Ziva jerked right, sending McGee and Gibbs sliding across their seats and screeched to a stop. They all jumped out of the sedan and ran for the warehouse, guns in their hands.

"Tony? I gotta hang up now, just hang in there. I'll be there soon, Tony, I'm coming for you." Gibbs swallowed hard against the rising emotion; now was not the time to break down.

Tony answered with a ragged gasp.

Approaching slowly, in case there were more thugs here somewhere, McGee came to the warehouse door and silently pushed it open, announcing that they were federal agents.

The inside of the warehouse was filled with wooden boxes set in rows, making aisles out of all the junk. Gibbs opened one experimentally, and wasn't surprised to see weapons and explosives. He looked pointedly at Ziva and McGee, letting them know to be careful where they discharged their guns.

Gibbs took a quick look around the place. There were three doors leading off to the right. Gibbs nodded at the doors and McGee and Ziva moved to the first two doorways, Gibbs taking the third.

"Clear!" Ziva called from the first room.

"CLEAR!" McGee.

Gibbs slowly entered the third room, McGee and Ziva coming up behind him. They didn't see anything but a desk and a few chairs. Gibbs listened closely. That's when he heard it. The damn near silent gasping breathes.

"Tony?" Gibbs cautioned, just noticing another door that was cracked open.

"Tony, you in there?" Gibbs was right beside the door now. He heard the gasping slow. Slowly, Gibbs pushed the door open. He gasped at the gruesome sight.

His senior field agent's body was broken and bloody and he was curled up against a wall near a corpse. He instantly felt a knot grow in his gut and it became increasingly difficult to breath. He swallowed harshly as he forced himself to move closer to his near comatose agent.

He bent down next to Tony, immediately checking for a pulse and was grateful to feel one. He put a hand out and gently shook Tony's shoulder.

"Tony, wake up. Come on now, open those eyes for me." Gibbs' voice was gentle and close to Tony's ear. He felt the man shift under him a little, then heard the wheezing.

"Bo—osssss? That….you?" Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief at his agent's slightly slurred words.

"Yeah, Tony. It's me." Gibbs glanced up at McGee. "McGee call an ambulance.

McGee nodded, eyes not leaving Tony. "On it, Boss."

"Look at ya'…McGee." Tony swallowed hard. "Followin'….orders jus' like I…taught…ya." Tony was gasping a little at the end. "Good lil'….Probie."

A ghost of a smile crossed Tim's face as he looked up to meet Tony's foggy green eyes. "We were really worried bout you Tony."

"Aww, I'm….fine. Takes more than….tha'….to kill a….DiNozzo, Probie." Tony grinned a little lopsidedly, chest stuttering.

"Easy, DiNozzo." Gibbs chastised as he started heaving through the pain. "Just breathe, Tony. Come on, breathe with me."

Breathe. Right, he'd forgotten about that with all the pain. Tony took a deep breath, and suddenly remembered why he'd forgotten to breathe. The pain rippled through him in waves, starting in his chest where the rattling in was getting worse and ending where his stomach was still bleeding. Tony closed his eyes when the world starting spinning again. There certainly weren't supposed to be two Gibbs'.

"Tony! Keep your eyes open." Gibbs suddenly sounded so scared. Tony's eyes immediately snapped open and fixed on his Boss' electric blue as he tried desperately to ignore the way everything was kinda fuzzy around the edges. "Just keep looking at me, Tony. Right here, look right here."

Tony didn't realize Gibbs was holding back the blood flow in his abdomen until he felt them press harder and he gasped at the pain, body arching off the ground. Gibbs clenched his jaw shut to keep himself from tearing up. This was so damn hard for him, watching Tony in so much pain.

"God, I'm so sorry Tony. I—I didn't mean…."

"Is' okay, Bossss." Tony moaned. "Not tha' bad."

Gibbs swallowed hard at the pain he could hear in the younger man's voice.

"I'm real tired…Boss. Think I'll jus' sleep, now." Tony's eyes started to flutter closed and panic flared in Gibbs' gut.

"No! Dammit, DiNozzo! You are not gonna die on me, Tony. Ya' hear me? Stay with me!" Gibbs knew his voice was breaking, but he didn't care right now. Tony was dying, dammit. He was not gonna let that happen.

"McGee!" Gibbs shouted, startling the agent. "What's the ETA on the damn ambulance!"

"Uhh, about 10 minutes now, Boss. But they don't think they'll be able to make all the way out here on the docks." 

Gibbs growled, frustrated. "Dammit all to hell!" Gibbs suddenly had a crazy idea. "McGee, help me out here."

McGee looked puzzled, until he realized what his Boss was doing. He immediately jumped in and began helping the older man. "Boss, ya think this is a good idea?" When Gibbs glared hard at him, McGee struggled to revise the question. "I mean, it's a long walk." 

"I'll manage." Gibbs insisted. With the help of McGee, Gibbs carefully picked the injured agent up into his arms and stood, slowly, mindful of the younger man's injuries. Gibbs winced a little when he put pressure on his bad knee. DiNozzo was surprisingly light; it seemed like he'd lost a lot of weight since the last time he'd seen him.

"Ziva," Gibbs called to the woman, who was still standing around a little overwhelmed. She looked over at him. "Call in another team to take this scene and meet me and Tony at the hospital as soon as you can."

Ziva nodded. She stared at Tony's pale face and swallowed hard, the worry creasing her brow. "Yes, Gibbs." She whispered, eyes not leaving Tony's face.

Gibbs nodded and then began the long walk to the end of the docks.

About 5 minutes later, Gibbs heard the shrill sound of sirens. He glanced down at his agent's face and was relieved to see the younger man stirring from his pain-induced sleep.

"Hear that, DiNozzo? Hear the sirens? We're almost there now." Tony moaned and shifted in his arms.

"Boss?" Tony groaned, eyes blinking open slowly.

"Still here, Tony."

Tony sighed. "I'm…glad you're…here, Boss. Thought…you forgot 'bout me…for awhile there."

Gibbs sighed. "Never, Tony. Always gonna be here. Always got your six."

Tony smiled. He felt the warmth spread through him at that. Gibbs was always gonna be there. It felt good to know that.

The ambulance pulled up as close to the docks as they could and the EMT's jumped out and rushed to meet Gibbs. He carefully handed Tony over to them and stepped back, letting them do their job.

They slowed the blood flow from the stab wound and set his shoulder that had apparently popped out of its socket. Gibbs caught a glimpse of the bruises on Tony's chest and the swelling around his shoulder and felt the anger flare up. Now that he knew Tony was safe with the EMT's the anger was making itself known.

He took a deep breath and stood by in case they needed him to do anything. They put a brace on his neck to support his head (apparently he had a couple more concussions) then another around his bad knee. Gibbs growled a little when he realized the knee he'd blown out in college was messed up again.

Those damn bastards.

Then they put an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth and slid him onto a gurney, quickly loading him onto the ambulance.

Gibbs climbed in with them and then they were speeding off.

One EMT looked up at him. "What's his name?"

Gibbs swallowed and looked up from Tony's too pale and sweaty face to meet the man's compassionate brown eyes. He seemed young, maybe twenty or thirty years old." Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo." Gibbs looked back at Tony. "But you can call him Tony."

The EMT nodded thoughtfully. "You know him well." It wasn't a question.

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah. He's my agent. Been on my team 10 years now." Gibbs thought about that. Longer than any other agent, longer than Stan and Gibbs had liked Stan, a lot. But he liked Tony a lot more.

"What agency?" The EMT questioned softly.

Gibbs sighed. "NCIS."

His eyes widened. "Navy cops?"

Gibbs nodded and finally looked up at him. He furrowed his brow. "Why?"

The EMT shook his head. "We need to get you to Bethesda." He called up to the front of the ambulance. "Yo, Mike, these are Navy cops! Get 'em to Bethesda, pronto."

Mike nodded. "On it, Will."

Gibbs closed his eyes. He propped his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. He focused solely on breathing deeply through his nose. In, out. In, out. _Don't think about Tony or how he's probably dying right now. _He told himself. Think about breathing. In, out. In, out.

He continued to think about that even after they rushed Tony into surgery and left him standing in the waiting room.

In, out. In, out.

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**A.N. So, I felt really bad in this chapter because Abby wasn't getting any attention lately. I decided the team need Abby love, so I just through her in there. **

**So how'd ya like it? Was it good? I'm glad the team finally has Tony back, they needed that after all this searching and stuff. Not sure it really ties together….but I tried my best!**

**Was anybody surprised about the guy I decided to be the traitor? I was kinda surprised when I decided I was gonna do that. Tell me what you all think by giving the review button some love!**

**LOVE AND KISSES!**

**Btw, does anybody else think that the new review button is kinda weird? I just noticed it the other day and I was all like "…..what?..." heehee bye ya'll!**


	11. Waiting and Waiting and Waiting

**Chapter 11: Waiting and Waiting and Waiting**

**A.N.: Hey guys! Next chapter! YAY! This one's just a short little filler pretty much. But it's important cause there's a lot o' information in it that is needed before the action kicks in again. Hope ya'll like it! **

**Disclaimer: No. No. Nonononononono. I don't own it. Stop asking me. **

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Gibbs was pacing around the small waiting room like a caged animal, growling and grumbling. The whole team was there, waiting on any news on their fellow teammate.

They still had a case they were working, but until they had any news on Tony, all were adamant to stay where they were. They were the only ones in the waiting room as it was nearly three in the morning.

It was dead silent, besides the sounds of their breathing and Gibbs pacing back and forth as he ran his hands through his dishelved hair.

They all jumped when Gibbs suddenly growled.

"What the hell is takin' them so long? They should be able to update us by now! It's been HOURS!" Gibbs was starting to get worried that something had happened and that's why it was taking so long.

Collapsing into a chair, Gibbs put his head in his hands, trying to hold it together.

"Jethro." A hand landed on Gibbs' right shoulder and squeezed gently. Gibbs looked up at his friend. "You need to take a deep breath and calm down. I am sure the doctors will update us on dear Anthony as soon as they are able."

Gibbs sighed and nodded. "Yeah. Just hate not being able to do anything." He admitted softly, loud enough for only Ducky to hear. He nodded.

"I understand, dear boy." Ducky cleared his throat. "I believe I have a phone call to make, if you'll excuse me." Gibbs nodded absentmindedly. Ducky sighed and squeezed his shoulder once more before letting go.

He nodded in the direction of the rest of the team before stepping outside the hospital and to the side of the building. Sinking onto a bench, Ducky took a deep breath before dialing a number he rarely, if ever, has.

The phone rang three times before the other person picked up with a click. "Yeah."

Ducky took a breath. "He's not doing well. He needs you"

The man on the other end sighed. "That bad huh?"

Ducky nodded. "Yes, dear boy. He is working himself into a fit. He can barely stand to be in the same room any longer. He needs a friend right now."

He chuckled. "Gibbs hates the waiting. He hates anything he can't shoot or glare into submission."

Ducky smiled wearily. "Yes, that is what I'm afraid of."

He nodded. "I'll be there in 10." With that, he hung up with a click.

Ducky sighed and closed his cell phone. Laying his head in his hands, he took a deep breath. He hoped the other man would be able to do what he couldn't; be there for Jethro when everything he held dear was slipping out of his grasp.

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The man was pacing. Pacing around with vehemence. And he hadn't stopped since he'd told him the bad news.

Pacing wasn't good.

He was also pissed as hell. His face was red with his anger and he looked ready to shoot something, or someone.

Which also, wasn't good.

"Umm, Mark?" Came the tentative voice.

The man stopped and turned around. "What!" he growled.

Carlson winced. "Umm, what should we do?"

He stepped menacingly closer. "Well, I don't know, Jimmy. I guess we should just give up, right." Carlson stared at him. He snarled. "GO AND GET HIM, YOU DUMBASS!"

Carlson jumped and saluted messily. "Right! Okay, on it!" He paused. "Um, do you want me to…"he swallowed. "kill him…?"

He narrowed his eyes. "No, I want you to tap dance with him. OF COURSE I want you to kill him, YOU IDIOT!"

Carlson ran out of the room. He shook his head and turned around to look out the window. From this vantage point, he could see the White House perfectly.

With Anthony DiNozzo alive, they had a problem. He was the only victim they'd ever had to survive something like this. Of course, there was no guarantee he would survive the surgery, which is what little Jimmy was going to make certain of.

Having a victim know everything about your plan and possibly live to tell someone of importance about it was something he really wanted to avoid. They'd started all of this to make a point.

When his son, John, had been killed, he'd promised to get revenge on NCIS and the FBI and any other government official who had been involved in his case. They were supposed to protect John, keep him safe until they found the man who had brutally murdered John's wife and child. But, when his son had been thrust accidentally into the firefight and killed, he had sworn revenge.

And know, they were going to pay for it.

He knew bringing Jimmy into it was probably not the best idea, but he hated his annoying sister's son and had to find a way to coerce him into being his 'guy on the inside'. He'd done that remarkably well by threatening the only family he had left: his parents and baby sister.

If threatening to kill his sister, her husband and niece and nephew made him a monster, then so be it. He had to get revenge for what happened to his son and his family. He _needed_ to. There was no other way.

Let the games begin.

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Gibbs was close to exploding.

He was full of all this nervous energy, and without an outlet, he had blown up on two nurses and half his team already. He hated himself for that, but he hated waiting more. Hated not knowing what was going on behind that door.

Tony couldn't die. That was not an option. He needed the younger man too much. The man was his coworker, partner and subordinate.

But it was more than that.

They'd been friends for years and had only grown closer as the years had passed. The man was his best friend and one of the few people who knew him so well, could read him and knew so much about him as a person. The only other person he trusted as much, that was still alive, was Fornell and _maybe_ Ducky.

"Jethro." Gibbs felt the man sink into a hard plastic chair beside him then groan. "Ugh, how could ya' sit in this thing?"

Gibbs smirked and shook his head. "What're doin here, Tobias."

The man leaned back and slung his left arm over the chair, staring at Gibbs who wouldn't meet his stare. "The doctor called me." He paused. "Was worried about ya' Hell, Jethro, we all are." He admitted softly.

Gibbs rubbed his hand over his chin, still not looking at him. "Nothin' to be worried 'bout."

He chuckled. "Really? Gonna deny it? Not really your style, Jethro."

Gibbs didn't answer.

Tobias sat up and leaned in close to him. "Jethro, I know you care about him." He shook his head and leaned back. "Don't have to lie with me."

Gibbs clenched his jaw. "How long have you known."

Fornell jerked his head back, surprised. "What? That you actually care. That you actually have feelings?" Fornell narrowed his eyes. "Or that something's different about Tony? That this time, you might actually give a shit if the kid got blown up or shot or, God forbid, died." He paused when Gibbs winced.

Gibbs cleared his throat. "Both."

Fornell shrugged. "Years. Maybe from the moment I heard you brought the kid here from Baltimore, maybe after when I actually met him. Didn't realize it though till he got the plague and you went to hell and back again to find the bitch who did it to him." Fornell sighed. "Then he didn't leave your house for three weeks after, you insisting he stay there and not be on his own." Fornell chuckled. "Oh, and of course you _ordering_ him not to die."

Gibbs smiled softly. "Yeah. He's a bit stubborn."

Fornell leaned forward. "He needs you, Jethro. Your boy in there," he pointed at the emergency room doors. "needs you. _You_. Not Abby or Ducky or his bastard of a father. You." Fornell sat back. "And I think it's bout time you figured out why."

Gibbs finally looked at him. Fornell swallowed hard when he saw the depth of emotion swirling around in the blue eyes. The sadness the fear the worry. And of the course the guilt and the anger, whether it was at himself, at the bastards they were after, at the whole situation, or something in between, Fornell didn't know. Probably a mixture of everything.

Just then, a man dressed in blue scrubs and a face that seemed tired and strained, stepped out of the emergency room doors and walked towards them. And just as quickly as it came, the emotion rushed from Gibbs' eyes as he put on a mask of cold indifference. Steeling himself in case there was bad news.

"Family of Anthony DiNozzo?" he called wearily.

Everyone in the waiting room stood up and quickly walked over to the doctor. He looked up at the group, obviously surprised at the large number of people.

Gibbs made it to the doctor first. "How is he doc?" Gibbs voice sounded strained, even to his own ears.

The doctor sighed. "He's pretty beat up for sure. There are signs of extensive bruising and burns from what I could only guess was a possible bomb?" He looked questioningly at the group.

Gibbs answered the unspoken question. "We're federal agents. He was caught up in an explosion about a week ago and then another just three days ago."

The doctor looked shocked but nodded. "Right, so that would explain the bruising and burns. Also, he seems to have been tortured with multiple things. A bat seems to be one and a rather blunt metal pole as well as knives and a whip. He has a rather deep cut across his throat and another high on his cheek bone and in multiple other places across his chest and back." The doctor took a breath.

"His left arm was broken and we were able to cast that. His right shoulder was also dislocated and set back the wrong way, so we reset that. His right knee was sprained, however, and we were forced to brace it seeing as he has had problems with this knee in the past. The bruising on his chest was worrisome; he was having difficulty breathing which could have meant his lung collapsed, which it did. We had to intubate him to fix the collapsed lung and he seems to be breathing easier now." He saw the shock on their faces as they all tried to take in what he was saying. It was a very extensive list for sure.

"And the most obvious injury, of course," he continued after a moment. "would be the stab wound in his abdomen. We were able to stop the bleeding and fortunately no vital organs were nicked or bled out. Despite the long laundry list of injuries he has, he should be just fine after a good few weeks of resting and taking his medications." He concluded.

He felt the tension bleed out of the room as the entire group breathed a collective sigh of relief. They were glad he was going to be okay but that was a hell of a list.

Gibbs was the first to break the silence. "Can we see him?"

The doctor nodded. "Sure. Only next of kin right now, though. We just sedated him and he needs his rest. But I'm sure one visitor would be fine. He's been moved to recovery." The doctor gave them Tony's room number and then left them for the night.

Gibbs took a deep breath, gave his team one last glance and walked off for Tony's room.

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**A.N.: Sooooo, what'd ya think? I really though it was time ya'll figured out the meaning behind all the torture I'm putting Tony though. Okay, so Tony's fine, for now. But Carlson's on the hunt cause his mean, manipulative uncle is threatening his baby sister! :( So, that means Tony's still in danger. But Gibbs doesn't know it! Duh duh duhhhhhhh what's gonna happen?**

**Please review! I love to know what you think of my story! **

**LOVE! **

**~TonyDiNozzo42~**


	12. Remembering to Breathe

**Ch. 12: Remembering to Breathe**

Doctors can tell you all kinds of things. Like a laundry list of injuries inflicted on his senior field agent, his _friend_, for example. But no matter how much anyone attempts to prepare you, _nothing_ can prepare you for what you actually _see_.

As Gibbs walked into his agent's room, that's exactly what he thought. He stopped cold not two steps in the room and felt the air leave his lungs like a punch to the stomach as his gut clenched. Three words came to mind.

Tony. Looked. _Bad_.

_Really_ bad.

In fact, worse than bad. Worse than Gibbs had ever seen him before.

The first thing he noticed was the bandage on the side of Tony's face that was covering the cut on his cheekbone. Aside from the split lip and various little cuts and bruises on Tony's face, that was the most damage done.

Then it got worse.

As Gibbs' eyes went down Tony's body, each injury got worse and worse. From the cast on his left arm, sling on his right, and what little was left seen on his arms that showed the many bruises, cuts, slices, and bandages to the tube down his throat that made the bandage that covered the slice on his throat more noticeable, it seemed Tony was completely buried behind bandages and bruises.

And that was just what Gibbs could see above the sheets and hospital gown.

Under the sheets, Gibbs knew there was still the brace keeping his knee from getting worse than sprained, a bandage covering the worst of the cuts and bruises on his chest and a bandage covering the stitches in Tony's stomach from the 8 inch stab wound.

Taking a shaky breath, Gibbs slowly took the steps that would take him to Tony's bedside. Staring down at his agent, Gibbs suddenly felt an overwhelming need to touch the younger man. A need that Gibbs wasn't accustomed to. It both surprised and scared him.

Scanning the man, Gibbs tried to find a spot that wasn't covered in bandages, bruises or cuts. He ended up gently holding the younger man's right hand in his left.

Looking around, Gibbs found a chair and pulled it up with his right hand as he sunk into it. Sighing, Gibbs looked over at the younger man.

"God, Tony." He breathed. It was hard to see Tony look so…broken.

That was the only word Gibbs could think of.

Suddenly, Gibbs became aware of how absolutely impossible it was to breathe. He couldn't take any air in and none was coming out. Any air that did seep through was shaky and staggered. He could feel the way his entire chest ached like he was the one in the hospital bed with the bruises on his chest making it hard to breathe with a different kind of pain.

This pain wasn't physical and no blow by some bastard with a gun could have ever inflicted this. It was the pain of thinking your senior agent, the man who always had your six, who had become so much more than a coworker, but a friend and family, was dead for nearly a week. It was the pain of finally seeing for yourself the man was still breathing, if only by the tube down his throat, but knowing that until he opened his eyes, looked at you and said the words himself, he wouldn't be fine. And until that moment, Gibbs knew he wouldn't be able to breathe.

Gibbs clenched his eyes shut against the onslaught of emotions those thoughts brought with it. The emotions that he hadn't felt for a long time and never thought he'd feel again. The fear, the pain, the confusion. And he wasn't feeling any of this for himself, but for the man lying in the hospital bed, half-dead.

"God, I need coffee." Gibbs muttered to himself as he stood up, gently setting the hand he'd been clutching back onto the bed, and strode out of the room.

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Staring straight ahead of him, Gibbs sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He'd been sitting in the same place on the bench outside Bethesda's ICU entrance for about 20 minutes. After having chugged down the first coffee he'd bought in ten seconds flat, he was now slowly sipping on the second one.

He just couldn't walk in there right now. He knew the team was taking turns sitting with Tony and giving him their love, despite him not being conscious to reciprocate it, and he didn't want to disturb that. He didn't have the heart to tell everyone to go home and go to bed just yet and it doesn't help that everyone time he looks at any one of them, especially Abby's tear-streaked face and red rimmed eyes, he feels the need to start breaking down and crying himself.

But he couldn't. Not yet, anyway. Maybe not ever. Marines don't cry, and despite him not really being a Marine anymore (even though he was in the Reserves) he still knew that he needed to be strong for his team right now. They had all lost their rock and without Tony, they were all lost.

Even Gibbs.

With Tony safely in Bethesda getting medical treatment and his position looking better by the minute, they were all able to breathe easier. That didn't mean they didn't still have a case to run and dirt bags to catch. Dirt bags that were planning on blowing up the White House.

Of course, with Tony alive, their plans were more than likely subdued. For now. Didn't mean any of them were out of the woods quite yet. Which meant that everyone needed to get back to the office.

No sleeping.

Everyone was exhausted from their endless search for Tony and desperately needed sleep. People could only live so long on coffee and CafPows! before something snapped and even Gibbs needed sleep. But that just wasn't an option now.

Sighing, Gibbs stood up and walked back into ICU, finishing off his coffee and dropping it in the trash as he went.

When he entered Tony's room, he wasn't prepared for what he saw. The sight made him smile a small, sad smile.

Everyone, including Palmer and Ducky, were fast asleep around Tony's bed. Abby had somehow managed to snuggle up on the hospital bed next to Tony and was currently trying to wrap herself as much as she could around the man. McGee was passed out in the chair on Tony's left, head back and arms hanging off the sides of the chair as he softly snored. Ziva was curled up in the chair Gibbs had been sitting in earlier on Tony's right, her head resting on her curled arms on the chair's arm rest. The couch in the corner of the room held a sleeping Ducky who was lying on his side with one arm hanging off the couch. And lastly, Palmer sat with his back against the foot of the bed, legs out, head back as he softly snored with his glasses askew on his face.

Grinning, Gibbs walked over to Tony's bed and kissed Abby softly on the head. She snuggled up against Tony a little more and sighed. They had all missed Tony so badly, that Gibbs wasn't really surprised that they were all here. He turned to Ziva and touched the top of her head gently, smiling when she mumbled something to herself and curled up even more in the small chair, her legs coming up as well.

Sighing, Gibbs moved to the chair in opposite corner from Ducky's couch and sat himself down in it, letting his head fall back and eyes close.

They all needed to sleep anyway, so what would it hurt if they got a few hours' sleep? They may still have a case, but the bombing currently postponed and everyone wiped out so completely, sleep was the most important thing right now.

That, and to assure themselves that thought they'd come close to losing Tony, he was still here with them now. That was all that mattered.

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AN: Sorry for the wait guys. No excuse, just me being lazy. Hope ya'll liked this update!

Read and Review!

Love,

TonyDiNozzo42


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